Hold Me Tight
by amorgan18
Summary: Just when Callie's found happiness again, an old flame returns.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

It's nearly 3 am.

And like clock work I'm awake listening to a muffled ambulance pull into Seattle Grace only a few blocks down from my apartment building. It's the only down fall of living so close to your job. Different career like a computer engineer or IT analyst and I would be peacefully sleeping near a Lockheed Martin building with a bad case of carpel tunnel instead of this.

The ambulance's siren brings back hundreds of reasons of why I wanted to be a doctor ranging from a Peace Corps mission to making my father proud. I wanted to help people. I wanted to make sure I fought and saved the weak so they could return to their loved ones. Some doctors fix hearts while others save children, but I chose to mend their bones

There's a silence of the siren and I'm hoping I'll be able to get back to sleep, but that's not the case. Another ambulance can be heard in the distance. Something big is coming into Seattle Grace tonight.

This morning I'm awake a little bit before 3 am staring at two hospital pagers sitting on my nightstand. Any second now one of those pagers are going go off. Any moment now the warm body pressed so intimately into my back is going to stir and reach over me for whatever pager is sounding.

Another moment and neither of those pagers go off. Instead, I find myself tuning out the ambulance and tuning in to the soft breaths coming from Arizona Robbins, the peds surgeon that has taken up residency in my bed during the past week.

Unlike myself, Arizona can and will sleep through anything except the chirp of her pager. I remember asking her once why that's just about the only thing that could wake her to which she replied, "Children are really small which only gives them small opportunities to get better. We can't waste a second in saving them."

Arizona breathes out again. Her warm breath caresses the back of my neck causing me to forget about sirens and pagers going off. Just a sleepy exhale stops time and I find myself lost in the moment. If you had asked me in November if I'd be happy again, I probably would have pushed you in front of one of those speeding ambulances. But it's almost May now and I truly am happy again.

It's been three months since she kissed me in the bathroom at Joe's. Two months since I brought her back to my apartment and made tender use of my bed with her. One month and thirty days since Dr. Hunt walked into my room and declared that don't ask, don't tell was over-rated and six weeks since we updated our Date and Tell sheets for the Chief.

I've fallen for butterfly scrub cabs, heely's --despite the number of broken arms I've set because of them, animal characters sewn onto lab coats, and endless smiles. She found my heart in that parking lot of no return, took it off life support and showed it how to beat again. For that I'm thankful Arizona Robbins is naked in my bed hogging the bed sheets, keeping her pager next to mine, and making everything okay with each breath she takes next to me.

She shifts in her sleep, wrapping her arm over my stomach and pulling me closer. I give into the comfort and heat radiating off her and shut my eyes. If heaven is feeling completed by your lover's presence even at 3 in the morning, then I never want to leave the safety of her arms again.

But the moment is lost when I can hear a pager in the next room going off. There's a loud thud as two people scramble out of their bed. One of them is hurrying towards the door and out into the living room.

Suddenly my bedroom door opens and the lights are turned on. It's Yang and obviously something big as predicted has rolled into Seattle Grace. Slowly, I open my sleep deprived eyes and lift my head giving her the "this better be good" look.

"Sixteen car pile up on I-90. Trauma, kids, the works. You better wake—"

Yang's cut off by my girlfriend's startling awakening as she sits all the way up, the covers falling off her body exposing her breasts. Okay, so maybe it's not just pagers that will wake her. It's also a child in trouble. But ever stoic, Christina averts her eyes and continues. "Owen's calling now. Something about kids so you might want—"

Again she's cut off, but this time by Arizona's pager going off. Ari reaches across me to retrieve it. Owen joins Yang in our doorway. He gets one glance of my naked girlfriend and he too looks away like nothing happened. Situations and reactions like these show me that these two might actually be made for each other.

"Dr. Robbins, hospital says there are two kids in critical condition. We'll see you there," he says and closes the door.

I finally sit up and give Arizona a frown as she's typing the pager number into her cell phone. "What?" she asks innocently enough.

I point a finger at her full breasts still hanging out for the entire world to see or at least the world that likes to enter my bedroom at 3 am. "Most people would have covered up after the first person walked in."

"I was named after one of the fifty states. That's definitely qualifies me as being a little different from most people," she say, not looking up from her phone. "I gotta get going. You coming?"

I shake my head. It's been one too many 3 am nights for me. I'd probably hurt more than help a patient at this hour.

She gets out of bed and puts her clothes on. "Looks like I might be missing out on sunrise yoga. Wanna grab lunch instead?"

"Ummm, maybe. If nothing better comes up," I joke with her, but in all honesty that's all I'll be thinking about until lunch. Lunch with her, a stolen cuddle moment in the on-call rooms, passing her in the hallway; she brightens my day without even trying.

Leaning back onto the bed Arizona gives me a quick kiss, but its one that has the strength to send my heart into cardiac arrest. "Wish me luck," she says like always just before she's pried away from me for some stellar surgery.

"Good luck." She turns to leave when I notice it. "Ari,.."

"Wha?" she asks hopping on one foot, trying to get her shoes on in record time.

"You got my shirt on again."

She gives me a 10,000 watt smile which is just as heart stopping, but this I swear could make the lights go out in Vegas. "Looks like you'll just have to have lunch and now dinner with me if you want it back."

She's good.

Another quick yet smoldering kiss later and she's out the door chasing after Yang and Dr. Hunt as they head off to Seattle Grace.

I roll over onto her side of the bed and bury my face into her pillow smelling wild honeysuckles and play-doh. What a combination, but it's my girlfriend nonetheless. It lulls me back to sleep.

****************

It's nearly noon now. The chief has scheduled a late afternoon meeting today for debriefing of last night's ER bombardment from I-90 and some general house keeping. It's probably the usual we hired so and so, this person is leaving us, M&M is scheduled for the following Wednesday. It never changes, but I've learned to come prepared with coffee for my three favorite doctors.

Mark Sloan is the first to arrive. He sits next to me grabbing one of the coffees from my lap and slowly sipping it.

"Got called in last night too?" I ask looking at the dark circles under his eyes.

Mark gives a chuckle. "What do you think?"

Same old Mark, but sometimes I like to give him the benefit of the doubt. "What about Lexie?"

He stretches out and gives a smile. "She was already here when the first bus rolled in."

"Keeping her company, weren't you?"

His unchanging smile is all I need to know. "Saw Doogie Howser come in little bit after that. She still staying the night at your place?"

Mark's always making up names for Arizona. But the latest has been a reference to her being one of the youngest attendings on staff. Stuff like that makes me confident that he likes her or at the very least approves of our relationship.

"She left wearing my shirt this morning." The thought of it gave me goose bumps and shivers in all the right places. I might be curvier than Ari, but my clothes still manage to cling to her in all her right places.

"Get use to it. Girls love to steal their guy's err—lady's clothes."

"Erica wouldn't let me do that. I always thought that –"

Mark held up his hand halting me in mid-sentence. "Remember what I said, Torres. Girls don't wanna hear about the one before them."

Deep down I know he's right. I was no different and I completely hated it when any of my old boyfriend's exes came up in conversation. It happened one too many times with some of them to be considered an accident. Erica only mentioned her exes once during her leaves confessional about it never feeling right. I'm pretty sure I couldn't count the number of times George came up in conversation when I was with Eri --AH! I did it again. Damnit.

"Sorry."

"Don't tell me. Do it when you're with her."

I can't help but giggle a little bit as I say, "That's what she said." Mark rolls his eyes at me. I'm getting good at that game now.

Lexie finally shows up taking a seat next to Mark. I hand her one of the coffees. She's been awake just as long as Mark possibility even longer, but she still looks like a baby after a nap. That is, she did look rested until she opened her mouth and began rambling on a mile a minute. "I can't believe the Chief would call for a meeting after the night we had! My guy crashed five times just while we were trying to get him stable for surgery. And who's got their kids out that early in the morning anyways?! They needed to spend the night at a hotel and rest! Not drive the entire coast in a day! Young kids, stupid parents, ugh! It's a shame Dr. Robbins couldn't save the younger girl. She really looked—"

"Hold it! Ari lost a kid?" I interrupt.

Lexie slips the coffee and I'm starting to regret giving it to her, as it will only fuel the rambling insanity. "Yeah, she locked herself in the fifth floor on-call room afterwards. Really thought that girl was going to make it, but you know how often complications can happen."

I don't even stick around hear to Lexie finish as I bolt out on the auditorium. Sprinting through the hallways and to the stairs, I don't even bother with the elevator because with my luck Derek's got it on lockdown. I still have the remaining coffee in my hand gripping it too tight as some of it spills onto my hand. I know Arizona is all smiles and doesn't show it enough, but when one her patients die she does take it to heart. Probably worse than Miranda Bailey, but she'd never tell them.

I get to the fifth floor on-call room and sure enough she's locked it, but that never stopped me. In college, I would always forget my keys and would have to resort to opening my dorm room with a credit card. Thankfully my hospital ID will have to do in this instance. I slide the card through a few times and jiggle the handle before it finally opens and there is Arizona.

She was lying on the bottom bunk with her back to the door. No blanket over her body because the cold helps her not feel. I close the door, set down the now half full coffee and slip into the bed with her, wrapping an arm across her. We lay in a comfortable silence until she has the courage to say something.

"Doesn't get any easier the longer you do this."

"I'm sure you did everything you could," I say. My words do little to soothe her as I feel her start to tremble.

"It should've never happened," she sobs. "Those kids should have never been out that late!"

No words can console her at this point, so I stick with what I know and continue to hold her close. Ari's breakdowns are few and far apart and with good reason. Pediatric Surgeons can burn out easier than teachers after seven years. She never wants any of the peds residents to quit because they see her, their superior, unable to handle the emotional stress of the job.

She finally calms down and turns to face me. It's unbearable to see the dried tear marks that have run down her face, but I put on a big smile and kiss her forehead. "Hey."

"Sorry I'm such a wet blanket," Ari sniffles. She should never feel like she has to apologize for something like that. Still, Arizona does it anyways.

"If you didn't then I wouldn't think there was a human under that S on your chest."

It's feeble attempt, but it gets her to smile.

She rubs her eyes, which only makes it worse, but I'll never tell. "So," she begins putting a brave face on." I believe you and I are missing out right now on one of the Chief's invigorating debriefings about last night. Wanna head down there? We could sit in the back…" Her fingers run down the side of my clothed breast.

Saying things like can send my sex drive from 0 to 120 in no time flat. "I think you might have earned a pass on that today."

Her face quivers a bit as she remembers the kid and just like that, the moment's over. Smooth Torres! Just when she's feeling better! Ugh…

Arizona sit up and fixes her hair into a messy ponytail. She spots the coffee on the night. "That for me?"

"Oh yeah," I pick it up and hand it to her. "Sorry, I spilt most of doing a 100 meter dash up the stairs."

"Why didn't you take the el—" She cuts herself off knowing the answer already. She's able to finish what's left of the coffee in one gulp and pitches it in the can across the room. "So about this lunch, I was thinking we should venture somewhere away from the hospital."

I couldn't agree more as we leave the on-call room for green pastures and blue skies.

***********

Nighttime at Seattle Grace can either be a whirlwind of bizarre ER cases or it can be as dull as a bar on Sunday. I'm supposed to be studying up on an arthroplasty surgery, but I've done enough of them now that I could perform one of them in my sleep. Instead I've got my laptop out and I'm researching vacation spots in Mexico.

At the end of May, we both have a few days off and I feel like its time we took an extended weekend away from the Northwest. Not to mention it'll finally be a good reason for me to see her in bikini. I blush wondering if she tans easily or if I'll get to rub sun block all over her body.

The clock next me beeps telling me it's late. Mark and I are both on call tonight, but he's happily shacking up in an on-call room with Little Grey while I made sure my girl went home to sleep. Her mind was still a wreck from the lost of the little girl last night and I knew it would be awhile before she'd be up to rolling down the hallways again.

Bailey slamming a bunch of charts down on the counter snaps me out of my thoughts. "Can't fill out a mutha frickin' chart. Having me spend my good time away from my son to correct their mistakes…" She trails on.

"Interns having chart issues again?"

"You'd think that since they couldn't touch any of the patients for weeks that they would've gotten really good at their paperwork, but NO! That would be too easy for them. THIS! The interns who cut themselves up just because their stupid residents, THAT I TAUGHT, can't get over themselves and teach!"

I love it when Bailey's upset. She's a force never to be reckoned with and fortunately, I'm on her good side. She sees the website for a Mexican resort on my laptop's screen and gives me a smirk. Bailey may not approve of the bedroom tales that happen here at Seattle Grace, but she does approve of me keeping her mentor happy.

"Planning a trip?" she asks.

"Yeah, first trip as a couple. I wanted to surprise her and get away from the rainy-coldness of this place."

"Make sure there are no kids." It's sage advice from Bailey. She too must have seen the hurt in Arizona today. "Saw you two weren't at the meeting."

"Yeah…"

"Is she okay? Nurses said she didn't come back after lunch."

"She'll be fine. Just needs to rest away from this place."

"Well, you two missed out on the chief announcing that a cardiothoracic surgeon will be returning here." My ears burned at the words cardiothoracic surgeon.

"Not, Not Erica?" I choke out.

Bailey shakes her head, still reading through the charts. "Not sure. That's all the Chief said before he ended, but the nurses say it's Preston Burke. How on earth he's getting back in here after lying about that tremor, I'm not sure. He's lucky his license wasn't taken."

OMG! It's Preston Burke. Preston Burke! Dr. I-beat-Hahn-out-of-a-Harpy-Avery-Award Burke. Not Erica.

"You might want to warn Yang. I think you know why," Bailey said. And I think she has a soft spot for her former interns. Her nickname about being the Nazi can kiss my ass. Miranda Bailey is a saint ...with the occasional strong backhand.

"She's with Owen now. I'm sure she'll be fine."

She doesn't answer me and continues to charts. I hate it when Bailey's all silence and right.

"I'll go find her," I say with a heavy sigh and head down the hallway.

Yang's bound to be somewhere around the nurse's station or the dispatcher. She's usually waiting for another amazing case to come in, but tonight she's nowhere to be found. However, something else does catch my eye. It's a chart in the cardio section and it's marked urgent.

It's got to be for the returning cardio surgeon, which means their name would be listed at the top. One quick look wouldn't hurt and it would definitely answer the question about whether or not it's Preston Burke. And if it isn't then I wouldn't have to put Yang through the stress and relived memories of Burke all for nothing. It's for the greater good.

I glance to my left and then my right making sure the coast is clear. There's just a sleepy nurse down the hall filling out morning medicine charts. All systems are go as I bite my lip and reach for the chart.

"Torres!" Mark shouts.

I nearly jump out of my shoes as my hand shoots back and I turn around to face him. The bastard has too much energy for this hour of night.

"Hear about Burke coming back?" he asked.

"So it is true?"

"Yeah, he's supposed to come in later this week for some consults. Does Yang know yet?"

I shrug my shoulders. "If the nurses are talking about it, then she probably knows."

"Still, if I was her roommate, I'd find her and make sure."

That's two people to tell me that now, so clearly it's a sign from above. I give up on looking at the chart and head down to the resident's lounge.

The more I think about it, the more I notice it. Yang and I are not so different. We both come from very well off families. Our respective "person" is could qualify as a nympho. We're both seeing new Attendings and we both got horribly burned by a cardio surgeon. Maybe it's fate that we worked out as roommates.

I opened the door to the residence's lounge and see Yang sitting there with a book on her lap and a suture kit over it. Another banana is receiving the running whip stitch.

"Hey Yang—"

"I know already. I'm fine. Meredith is probably going to play twenty questions with me about it later," she says not bothering to look up at me.

"Okay, well uh… I guess I'll see you around then."

I turn to leave when, "Callie." She's looking at me now. I give her my full attention. "If it was Hahn coming back, what would you do?"

A sigh escapes me as I look at my feet like the answer's somewhere written on my shell tops. "I guess I would tell her off for leaving me without a good bye."

"Really?"

"No, maybe? I don't know. There's a part of me that just wants to stop being so upset and angry about. I'm happy now. I think I just really want to get some answers from her. Why? What are you planning?"

She smiles. It's kind of creepy. "I was going to see if Owen would kick his ass."

Her answer makes me snort and laugh. Yang surprises me sometimes. It makes me forget about the cardio chart that could've solved this all. Because for all we know, it could be some retired cardio guy before Burke. Hell, it could be an old resident who's moved on to bigger and better things. But I don't think about it again, as I head back to my laptop to confirm that Mexican getaway.

******************

My hands are elbow deep in a man who's in need of a hip replacement. The guy's been the all-American dad. He coached the neighborhood baseball team, was involved in the church, and spent a good deal of his retirement between being out on a boat fishing and making his wife's last remaining years absolutely brilliant.

Now it's his turn. This surgery will give him a second lease on walking. It should only take about three hours to complete what the man should have had a few years ago. Its cases like these that make me enjoy being a "carpenter."

I'm about to insert the implant and set it when the OR's door swings open. It's Little Grey, looking slightly panicked.

"Uh, Dr. Torres. Do you have an ETA of when you'll be done?"

"Hour or so," I answer then turn on my drill. She remains standing there, wait for me to stop.

I stop and ask for a smaller drill. "Do, do you think you could finish sooner than that?" Lexie asked a little more adamant than the last question.

"Seriously, Grey?"

"It's just that, uh, there's a consult that needs to uh, happen now. Could—could you just hurry?" She's pushing frantic now.

"I'm not going to hurry through this man's hip replacement for a consult, Dr. Grey." I'm getting frustrated by this. "Really Lexie!" Does she want me to kill this man? "I'm replacing his bones. This cannot be rushed."

Her eyes lock with mine. "I really think you should take this consult."

I turn to Meredith Grey who's standing across from me. "Grey, go handle the consult."

"No, uh, Dr. Torres they need to see you immediately," Lexie tries again.

I'm about to hurl a scalpel into Little Grey's foot then Meredith speaks up. "Lexie, tell the patient that Dr. Torres will see them once the surgery's over. GO!"

Lexie is such a puppy. She's always trying to please others, always pushing the boundaries of being annoyingly cute. I know she doesn't want to get on Meredith's bad side. She still talks about how terrible she felt after calling Meredith a bad sister. So of course, Lexie listens and leaves or so I hoped.

I'm just about to go back to work when Little Grey burst back into the room.

"Callie," She used my first name, whoa. "I lied. It's Dr. Robbins. You need to go to her right now."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The room felt too warm. The people around me were standing too close and the scrub nurse stopped handing me tools. I could hear Lexie trying to explain to me while being as cryptic as possible, but none of it processed. Doctors and nurses alike started exchanging glances and concerned looks. Their whispers sound worse than nails on a chalkboard.

The intercom from the gallery sparked on. "Everything okay?" asks Bailey.

My blood is pulsing in my head like a machine gun as I look up at the gallery. Stupid interns are taking bets on whether or not I'd be storming out of there. Do I really looking like a volcano about to erupt or what?

"Torres! Is everything okay?!" Bailey asks again.

"Please Callie! You need to come with me now!" Lexie cries over her.

Sweat starts to roll down my face and I can feel hands start to cramp. The weight of the drill I'm holding feels heavier by the moment. The smell of drilled bone and fresh titanium make me nauseous. Then it all disappears, the smells, the whispers, Bailey on the intercom, Lexie's begging. And best of all my hand feels light as feather.

"Oh shit," Meredith breathes out as the drill slams into the OR's floor silencing everyone.

I don't move for a minute hoping this is all a dream. Then I gaze down at the man on the table in front of me. I told him before he went under that this surgery was so routine in an Ortho surgeon's repertoire that nothing could go wrong on my part. I assured him that he'd be back on the baseball pitch in no time. But now the drill is now lying on the floor in pieces and I can't unwrap my mind from the idea that I might have just lost another girlfriend to this hospital or something worse.

Seriously! I could not have foreseen this, but I can't quit. I don't quit, right? This isn't the bottom of the ninth and we're not behind by twelve. This is only the third inning, I'm about to hit a home run with the bases loaded. I do not quit.

"Callie!" It's Bailey at the door now. She looks like she scrubbed-in in under a minute. Her brown eyes pierce into me and I know exactly what she's going to say. "I'll finish up here."

Did I mention Bailey should be canonized?

I'm heading into the scrub room with not so much as a thank you for Bailey, ripping off my surgical gown and mask. Lexie is quick on my heals.

"What the hell happened to her?!"

Little Grey jumps at the apprehension in my voice. "The parent of her patient who died yesterday... uh, well, he yelled at her."

"He yelled at her?" I'm not sure whether to be scared shitless or angry with Lexie. What the fuck does she mean by 'yelled at her?' We're doctors! Stuff like that happens all the time. I may not understand it, but I'm not about to stop scrubbing out either. "Grey, Dr. Robbins is a big girl. I think she can handle something like that."

Doctors are trained to handle bad news and yelling. Hell! That's what interning is for. We learn to control an upset parent or two. Defuse a situation with science or a simple, 'it was out of our hands.' Any of us can deal with it! It's especially true about Arizona Robbins. At any given time Ari's got twenty kid patients with parents who will praise the day they can take their child home and not see her face again. She can handle parents. The other day was just a fluke. She got upset, cried in the on-call room, but she got over it. Case closed, wound healed. Right? Ari can handle it. She's got to.

The terrified look on Lexie's face does little to confirm my assertion. So of course my stomach drops out and my thoughts skip like record replaying all horrible cases I've ever worked upon. What was so bad that I had to be taken out of surgery? "Grey, where is she?"

"Attendings' locker room. Just go."

It's a new feeling. This fear of what's waiting for you. It's probably why I never liked working rotation in the ER. I ran down hallway after hallway with my heart in my throat and my sanity betraying me more and more with each step. She couldn't be further from the operating room.

Bursting through the locker room, I frantically shout for Arizona, but all I can hear is the sound of the showers running. I enter searching for her, but the steam is everywhere obstructing my vision and making me perspire. But no matter what the temperature of the showers were, a cold chill sweeps over me when I hear her grief-stricken cry.

I pull back the curtain to find my girlfriend lying in heap wearing just her scrub pants and bra. The skin on her back is bright red and blistering from the heat of the water. "ARI!" I scream turning the water to cold and grabbing her, careful of her back.

Tears are streaming from her face. Words are falling from aimlessly from her lips. "I tried everything…" is all I can make out.

I look up and see Lexie standing there, babbling almost as bad as Arizona. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I said I'd –I'd be right back! I didn't think she'd- I told her to wait! I would bring you as–"

"Get Mark! Now Lexie! GET MARK!"

She looks at the burns on her back, then back to me. Now the words are unable to form in her mouth. I can't blame her. You'd never expect this. Not from Arizona.

"LEXIE MOVE!" I scream, feeling Ari is tense in my arms.

Little Grey takes off. I look at my girlfriend who's now trembling in my arms. "Arizona!" It doesn't even register with her that I'm here and saying her name. "Arizona please!"

"I tried. I tried everything..."

I reach up and turn off the water. It seems to bring her back little bit as she turns her attention to me. But I can't see the pediatric surgeon anywhere in her eyes. There's just the same fear that's reflected in my own.

"Ari, please! It's me!" The burns on her skin are prevalent on every inch of her back, yet she didn't seem to notice them. I felt my stomach turn again. "Why would you do this sweetheart?" I tried to keep my voice light to disguise the panic that was slowly seeping through.

"I'd never give up. We don't quit…. We don't quit…" Her words are a mess matching the one on her back. Again, I don't know what to say. Almost a decade of medical school and I'm unsure of what to do medically or emotionally just to ease her pain. All I know is I can't run from her. No matter how frightened I am.

We stayed there on the shower floor until Mark came followed by Yang, Grey, and Hunt.

Mark is yelling. Owen is assessing the damage on her back, and me? I'm being pulled away by an intern and a resident. They take out of the shower and out of the locker room. The absence of her self-mutilation in my direct sight brings relief, but what I didn't realize was this is just the calm before the storm. It makes me a coward for not fighting to stay there with her.

And then I hear it.

The most gut-wrenching scream ever from her mouth.

"CALLIOPE!"

Why does it have to be my name?

**************

She's brought to a private room and I'm not allowed in. The blinds are down on the windows and the door is shut. I pace back and forth chewing on my nails, waiting. Finally the door opens with Yang standing in it.

"What happened?" I demand. Yang pulls me into the room and then I see Arizona lying on her stomach while Mark is dabbing Arizona's back with silver sulfadiazine. The odor is overwhelming. I move to Arizona's side, at first afraid to touch her. There are blisters on her back and parts of her skin are peeling. I think I'm going to puke.

"Calliope," she says dreamily.

"What happened?" I demand.

Yang shakes her head. Now is so not the time to be badgering Arizona with questions, but I'd like to see them stop me.

"Arizona, what happened? They pulled me out of surgery! What on earth did you?!"

"I'm fine," she says, but the words don't match her facial expression as Mark removes some of the burnt skin and she flinches. "I just ran the water a little too hot in the shower. Mark's patching me up just fine."

"Hot enough to burn your skin off?!" I shout at her. Why does she always have to down play the situation?

"Torres, I'm treating burns and Thirteen here, doesn't need people yelling at her during treatment. Kindly wait outside before I ask Dr. Yang here to channel her inner samurai and remove you," Mark says, dabbing more onto her skin.

If looks could kill, Mark would have been long gone. I take Arizona's hand and give her it a supportive squeeze. "I'll be right outside."

"Go! I'm fine." She's giving the worst performance ever, but I leave the room anyways with Yang following right behind me.

"So what's the damage?" I ask as soon as the door closes.

"Dr. Sloan is treating her for second degree burns and wants her to stay over night for observation. Dr. Wyatt's been called. She's seeing Dr. Robbins first thing in the morning."

I shake my head. "No."

"No what?"

"No Wyatt. I'm not having that nut case analyze her."

"Look Callie, I'm no fan of hers either, but your ball of sunshine in the next room had a mental breakdown and tried to boil herself alive. Do you want her to turn into the next Sydney Heron because that's going to happen if she doesn't get help."

"She doesn't need that help though. I'm here for her. I'm not having some psycho doc mess her up anymore than she is!"

"Fine," she spits out. "I've got rounds. Can I trust you won't go off the deep end either?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Yang gives me a nod and takes off. But before I can head back into the room, Lexie, the waiting room vulture, grabs hold of my arm. "Is, is Dr. Robbins okay?"

"There are burns and blisters covering her back." Ice fills my words like venom as I retract my arm. "And I'm pretty sure by the sound of her voice, she's been sedated. So what do you think?"

"The fa-father of that kid she lost came back today and had it out with Dr. Robbins. Nurses said it was some pretty harsh stuff. She kind of disappeared after it and didn't answer any of her pages. I –I found her on bench in the attendings' locker room. She was really, really upset and she asked for you. I didn't –I didn't know this would happen. I –I would have never left her."

That same feeling from the OR comes back as my blood start to boil and my head pounds.

Thankfully, Mark opens the door. "All finished!" He tosses me her chart. "Reapply in a few hours, okay?"

Screw asking him what I'm applying. I want to see her so bad that I nearly take Mark out as I burst into the exam room.

"Calliope!" she squeaks out a few octaves higher than normal.

God, how much did they give her?

She reaches out and takes my hand. "I don't think we're going out tonight."

"It's okay. A night in with you is more my style right now even if it's in the hospital."

"Yeah well, anything that happens physically with you two in the hospital or not, just remember that Dr. Quinn here has got to be on top. Those burns are gonna take some time to heal" Mark says.

Arizona giggles. "Not a problem with this bottom!"

"Still lazy, Torres?" Mark laughs as he leaves, closing the door behind it to give us some privacy.

I'm going to kick both their asses one day for those comments. She giggles again and her eyes flutter trying to fight off the sleep. Struggling to stay awake after being drugged into oblivion is like swimming up Niagara Falls. Still, she's trying so of course I have to ask her.

"Ari, what happened? Why would you do this to yourself?"

A deep breath fills her lungs like its some annoying chore she's got to get over and done with. I know she's searching for the right words that will stop my questions. "I was just tired, okay? So I decided to take a shower. Water was up a little too high. It's nothing."

"If it's nothing then you won't mind me going to find that asshole who yelled at you."

"Calliope…"She begins, but sedative takes her away from me a little more. "He was upset. He lost his little girl. It happens! We deal with it and move on."

"Yeah, I think you really dealt with it!" I don't want to sound sarcastic, but my voice is reeks of it.

"It was an accident. I was tired." She couldn't sound any less unconvincing. "How far did you get in your surgery?"

"No!" I yell watching her flinch at my tone. "Don't change the subject. Dr. Wyatt is coming in tomorrow to evaluate you. Stop acting like it's nothing!"

Arizona's eyes become even droopier as she lies her head down. "That's super…" She trails off.

Damnit! I'm going to break someone's tibia for giving her so much. "Ari, wake up! We need to talk about this!"

"Calliope… you smell like… frosted sushi. Mmmm… " She finally closes her eyes.

And with that it's all over. Arizona Robbins, the new queen of deflecting is out for the count. I know I should wake her up. I should make her talk to me and ask her what the hell that guy said to her because tomorrow I don't want Dr. Wyatt near my girlfriend.

She groans in her sleep and all my thoughts are lost. That night I don't leave her bedside.

***********

It's about an hour until closing time at Joe's. Empty pints and shot glasses are littered across our table. Lexie has successfully managed to pass out on Mark's shoulder and not get kicked out yet. Mark doesn't seem to mind at all. He's more concerned with how they're actually getting back to Meredith's house without waking McDreamy and co.

And me? I'm not ready to leave. I'm kinda of hoping Joe will take pity on me and let me stay here all night because going home sign and seal my death sentence at this point.

It's been days since the incident. Arizona didn't take one of those off either. However, she did spend the morning after as far away from me in Dr. Wyatt's office, the wicked therapist of the west. I can't believe she could talk to this absolute stranger, but she couldn't talk to me. Not for lack of trying either. I've attempted several times to speak with her, but Arizona was blessed with a silver tongue. She either conveniently had a patient to check up on or would change the subject with ease.

Originally, I had a well thought out plan where she would get better under my watchful eye away from Dr. Wyatt and this hospital. I could care for her, maybe take a few days off to tenderly ease all her troubles away and then surprise her with the trip to Mexico. My plans never go off as intended. Arizona was back at work with her big smiles and with me hating it.

Mark notices the despair painted across my face and asks the waitress for two more shots. It seems the only people I'll be telling my troubles to tonight are Jack Daniels and Mark Sloan.

"Not planning on heading back anytime soon?" Mark asks.

The waitress sets down the shot glasses and I quickly knock back one. The amber whiskey burns my throat and calms my fears all in one. "She's been waiting at my apartment since her shift ended. I lied to her, Mark. I said I was working most of the night and wouldn't be back til late. She said she'd stay up and wait for me, but if I go back now she'll know exactly where I've been."

He takes back the second shot from me. Clearly, I should have been cut off long ago. "Uh, Cal? If she's staying up waiting for you, it's probably because she wants to talk to you."

"But that's just it! She doesn't what to talk to me about it! I want to help her, but she'd rather talk to that bitch Wyatt instead of me. I don't get why she won't just tell me what's wrong!" Tears beginning to form.

Mark smirks and drinks the shot. "Sounds familiar."

I give him a quizzical look. "What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

"You and Hahn. Weren't you the one going to everyone else except her when you were confused? Wasn't that one of the reasons we think she left?"

"Don't even compare this relationship to my one with Erica." I snap. Strike one for Mark. Erica will probably always be a sore subject for me. It's one of those we'll-be-able-to-joke-about-it-in-seven-years events that happen in your life.

Mark shifts a sleeping Lexie against his shoulder, perhaps to use her as a shield in case I attack him for the comment. "I just call it as I see it, Torres. You were confused and coming to me for answers about women, which I don't blame you. I'm kinda of a professional on the subject, but now she's confused and she's seeking out professional advice."

"Seriously Mark," My voice slurs, and I'm not amused by this and it's clearly strike two for him. Sure okay! Arizona's distance reminds me a little bit of my relationship with Erica, except this time I get to fill the vacant roll of the heart surgeon. It's still different though. Arizona won't talk to me when I know something much bigger is wrong. "Look, I'll go home. She'll dodge all my questions says she's tired and ignore me. I don't want that."

"Just a thought, but why don't you tell her that?"

Strike three! I grab my purse and stand up. "Be honest? This coming from the guy who dated his best friend's girl's sister for weeks without telling him? You don't know anything, Mark."

My exit could not have been more perfect. I left him with the bill, a drunken intern to take care of, and I got the last word in. Torres, you rock.

But my victory is short lived once I arrive at my apartment. I'm about to put my key in the door, when I hear her. Arizona's in there talking to Owen in living room. I can hear her mention the parent and the pain she felt. They're having the conservation I wanted to have with her.

"… I was doing good, ya know? I could separate it. First in my class, chief resident; people knew I can handle the pressure. But he mentioned the coffin and it got to me. There's a tiny coffin being made for that little girl because I couldn't keep her alive. And the father just kept yelling about it." Arizona said. Her cheeks glistened with tears as she blew on the tea Owen handed her.

"I have nightmares about them. Always have, so I balance it smiles and pink things," Ari sweeps away the tears as she remembers. "With rainbows and relationships."

"Rainbows and relationships. You don't think that's cliché? "Owen jokes.

Ari nods. "No. I think we need the cliché stuff in our lives to make the horrible doctor stuff feel better. But Callie… she wants to know things about me ,which is super and everything I want in a partner. But I don't want her to know this. All those kids whom a good fraction of them will be seeing those tiny coffins and there's nothing I can do. I can't describe that too her."

Owen takes a sip of his tea. Its warming leaves and aroma are smoothing to him. Arizona follows suit and takes a sip. It's something that Yang and I don't understand, but ever since Derek's mom spoke to him, Owen lives off it.

"You know," Owen begins. "I felt the same way when I came back. Couldn't get the images of soldiers, my friends, getting killed and mangled in combat. I lashed out and as much as I didn't want to, I ended up telling Christina. It helped."

"No, I can't. It's not fair to do to her."

Someone taps me on the shoulder cause me to jump. It's Yang.

"Forget your keys?" she asks, digging in her purse for hers.

"SHHHH! I'm listening!" I say a bit louder than I meant to.

Yangs fans her nose. I guess it's a little obvious where I've been tonight. "And you're drunk. Weren't you supposed to be working the night shift or something?"

"No… I just told her that. Mark took me out. I need to blow off–" I'm cut off by the door opening and Arizona standing there.

"You needed to blow off what, Calliope? Me?" she asks. She leans in and smells the alcohol coming off me in waves. "For what? Couple of laughs with Mark?" She narrows her eyes at me. I know it's my apartment, but I have an odd feeling that I'm going to be sleeping on the couch.

"I wanted to talk to you! I've barely seen you all week!" she yells.

"Don't kid yourself."

"You don't understand. Do you?" she heads back to the bedroom. I follow her in only to find her gathering her things.

"Where the hell are you going?!" I grab her stuff and toss them away, trying to stop her. But I just end up making a mess.

"Home, Calliope. I'm going to my place, so you can sleep this off."

"Oh get over yourself! You stay. I'll leave!" I yelled and head out slamming the bedroom door behind me.

Owen and Christina are standing and watching. "Uh, Callie?" Yang starts.

"I'll be at the fucking hospital." And I storm out of the apartment.

***********

Sure enough, I spent the rest of night in the bottom bunk of the third floor on-call room. I was in and out of sleep all night. My dreams/nightmares were ranging between angry ones and regretful ones and waking me at every possible moment. I shouldn't have been so upset, but then again, Arizona shouldn't have been all 'rainbows, relationships, and shit' to me after something like this happened to her.

By 5 am, I could hear interns arriving and making rounds to patients. By 6 am, alarms and pagers where going off in my on-call room. Between the hour of the morning and the ever-growing headache that was accompanying my hangover; I knew getting back to bed was going to be a struggle.

Finally, the person above me had their pager go off for the second time. They slowly get out of the bed, trying not to a shake it and disturb me. I pretend to be asleep once they get to the floor, but something inside of me wanted to see whom it was.

I roll over and face the doorway. There's definitely a blonde woman in dark red scrubs leaving the room. Squinting my eyes, I try to make out who it is, but the post-alcoholic beige blurs my vision and the dehydration makes me dizzy. I lie back down and cover my eyes with the pillow.

The mystery woman's identity will have to wait until this hangover wears off. Still I can't help but hope that it might be Erica.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

There's coffee within a five-foot radius of my sleeping head. I can smell it so intensely that it's changing my dreams so suddenly from sweet thoughts of a blond woman riding off into the sunset with me to a Starbucks themed with Girls Gone Wild. Opening my eyes, I spot a hazy version of Mark. He's pulled up a chair to the bed and is holding a cup of coffee directly under my nose. Despite being inside he's wearing sunglasses and not just so he can sing that song about it. Knowing Mark, after Lexie and he finally left last night, they probably consumed about another fifth of tequila each from the private collection of Meredith Grey.

The aroma of the coffee makes my hangover flare up as I push it away. Mark has a cruel sense of waking people. I bet you he was the kid at summer camp who would put your hand in a cup of warm water while you were sleeping.

"Wakey wakey, Torres!"

"Leave me alone," I grumble and pull the pillow over my head.

"Nope. Your shift starts in 20 minutes and one of us is in need of a shower before we have to make rounds. I'll give you one guess who."

My head is pounding by this point. Every word out of his mouth is like nails on a chalkboard. There's no way in twenty minutes I'm going to be ready for anything except a couple of trips with to porcelain throne. I'll never drink that much again or at least until tonight.

"Make Lexie do it. She likes to do it."

"That's what she said and Little Grey was smart and called in instead of deciding to sleep if off in an on call room. You're lucky the Chief hasn't found out."

Mark takes the pillow from me. On top of his annoying voice, the light coming through the blinds are now piercing into me like daggers. This day is going to be long. I can already tell.

"Just go on without me then."

"Too cliché," Mark says with a chuckle. "Besides, Rainbow Bright rolled in here and I do mean rolled in here this morning and has been on a work rampage. She's going to kill us with kindness or implode."

I yank back the pillow and attempt to smother myself with it. Death by pillow seems so much more appealing then dealing with a hang over and a pissed off girlfriend.

"I've also heard that there's an ankle fracture that needs reconstruction for some joker who just got wheeled in to the ER."

That grabs my attention as I look to see if Mark's kidding or not. "How soon?"

"Probably mid afternoon. The guy needs cardio too and Chief's trying to get Burke to do it."

And that's my ticket to exit. The best way to get back on the horse it to throw yourself into surgery. I swing my legs over the bed and sit up, but it only fuels the hangover as the blood rushes to my head and the acids in my stomach begin to churn. Reconstruction or not, I won't be operating any time soon. Mark hands me his coffee seeing that I need it a little more than him.

"So she's pissed off?" I ask, taking sip of it. I should have asked for water instead, but I guess this will do.

"Yeah. Was it the lying about working late or coming back completely hammered that made her kick you out of your own place?"

"I left on my own accord."

Mark shakes his head. I already know what's he's going to say. 'You must really like digging that hole your in,' or 'you must really be a sucker for punishment.' I know I'm not the greatest girlfriend. There must be a book about relationships with a picture of me cited next to each one of the what-not-to-do examples.

"Look, when I got home she was up talking to Owen Hunt about why she went off the deep end. I got pissed, she got pissed, and I left."

"And now you're sleeping it off here?"

I should really explain it more dept to Mark. The guy's my best friend and has been there for just about every breakup I've had at Seattle Grace. But I think he'd laugh about this one and tell me I getting all the benefits without any the cons. I now know Arizona thinks she's saving me by keeping me in the dark about all these horrific details about working with Pediatrics, but the truth is we've all been there.

I've lost patients and even though most of them didn't just learn to walk and talk less than five years ago, it doesn't make it any easier. Losing a child is unthinkable, but it happens everyday. Ari shouldn't feel like she as to hide this from me. If anything, I think out of everyone in her life I would be the most qualified to listen to her about it. Then again, maybe that's why I didn't do that well in my psych rotation. I just don't understand her or humanity.

"Mark, she had a massive breakdown and she won't talk about it to anyone she's remotely close to. Don't you think that's weird? I mean, even if I had come home on time and sober, I know we wouldn't have discussed it."

"Try telling her that then and when you don't smell like the floor at Joe's."

I lift the collar of my shirt to my nose and get a huge whiff of day old whiskey and beer, and that does it. My stomach churns again as I jump off the bed and head straight to the bathroom. I just make it to the toilet, hurling up everything from last night. Thankfully, Mark is behind me pulling my hair back and handing me some paper towels when I'm sure everything I've ever eaten is purged from my body.

"Better now?" he asks.

I nod sitting back on the floor and wiping my mouth clean.

"Good, then take shower, buy some flowers and go apologize to Britney Spears before she leaves for lunch."

Sure, because all life's problems with women can be solved by giving them pretty things and saying how stupid we were. This is going to be the longest day.

*************

By the time I'm able to peel myself off the bathroom floor and take a shower, it's well past noon. The interns have managed to find me and fill me in on the surgery that's been pushed back until later this afternoon. Apparently the hotshot cardio surgeon, who's supposed to be going first, got pulled away to Seattle Presbyterian for an emergency bypass. Who can blame them for taking Preston Burke away? The man is a legend now thanks to his shiny Harper Avery that he didn't deserve.

I did have one of the interns run a few blocks down from the hospital to florist to pick up some flowers or whatever all the cash in my purse would get me. Luckily, I chose the one intern who'd apologized enough times with flowers, chocolates, you name it. He returned with a bouquet of pink gardenias. Besides getting her a cactus or something desert like, they couldn't be more perfect for Arizona.

I found her standing at the nurses' station filling out charts. There are dark circles under her eyes and her skin looks a bit pale. I'm pretty sure that means she didn't get much sleep after last night's blow out. But I can't avoid her or the yelling I've earned for being a complete idiot. Mustering up all the courage possible, I walk over and place the gardenias onto top of her chart.

"I'm an ass," I start.

Arizona pushes them away and continues charting, doing her best not to acknowledge me.

"I'm the worst girlfriend in the world. I shouldn't have lied and gone out and I really shouldn't have yelled at you for opening up to Hunt. And I really shouldn't have left you."

Still, she continues charting.

"Can you just stop for a sec?"

"I didn't hear an apology in there." Her voice is cold and she doesn't look at me.

"And I'm sorry."

Finally she sets down her pen and turns to me. The warm, fuzzy Peds surgeon's look is gone from her face. I'm pretty sure the whole hospital could be giving me death glares right now and it still wouldn't be as bad as the one Ari's giving me.

"Seriously, Calliope?"

I pick up the flowers and hold them up to her. It's a feeble attempt, but she softens smelling their sweet perfume. I may not be as SOL-ed as I thought.

"Arizona, I'm sorry you've got the worst girlfriend in the world, but you should know that she's eternally sorry and she'd love to make it up to you with dinner for two at her apartment which is only blocks away from this hospital."

"No Cristina Yang?"

"No Yang. Just you, some chicken piccata, maybe a few bottles of that fruity wine you like so much, and the most attentive, loving, and apologetic girlfriend you've ever had."

Truth be told I have no idea whether or not Yang will be there tonight, but I'm not about screw up this make up either. And if she doesn't accept this I'll be on the floor next groveling at her feet. With my history at Seattle Grace, it would do wonders for the rumor mill.

"I saw the board. Don't you have surgery tonight?"

"Late afternoon. I'll be done before seven and have dinner ready by eight."

She takes the flowers from me and then studies my face, trying to see if I'm as good as my word. I crack too easily under pressure, so I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and give her the biggest showing-stopping kiss I'm capable of. The male intern behind the nurse's station gives a whistle as I flip him the bird. It such a desperate attempt, but she would have read through me like book.

"So, is it a date?" I ask.

Ari actually looks a little hot and bothered by this. Maybe I'm going to get away with this plan. She fumbles out a few um's and uh's trying to say okay, so I lean again and give her a quick peck on her cheek.

"Eight it is."

***********

It's kick-off time for the second half of the surgery. I've had a very minor part in this frat boy's multiple surgeries. The kid was knocked clean out of his shoes while playing rugby and I do literarily mean out of his shoes. From what I was told by his overly enthusiastic teammates, the ball was suppose to be knocked from the tackle, but the opposing player decided to take out my patient instead. Sounds like a fabulous sport.

The story gets better. Because of this opposing player's actions, there were not enough players to field a team for my patient's side. So the ref ruled the game a forfeit. I bet you anything that ref is regretting his decision now. After the game, the crazy guy who tackled him and a few others jumped my patient in the parking lot. The final blow: knife wound to the heart, which is where Preston Burke comes into play.

A nurse tells me that the cardiothoracic surgeon has just gotten briefed and is making their way to the scrub room. It's good news for the residents who've been doing their best to keep him stable. It might even be nice to see Burke for at least thirty minutes, even longer if I take my time. I know he's going to avoid Cristina at all costs, so it looks like I get to do all the yelling that my roommate going to miss out on. Harper Avery or not, no guy has the right to stand up their girl on their wedding day.

The door to the OR opens. I expected to see Burke, I really did. Every fiber in my body wanted it to be Burke because I wasn't ready for this. But there she was. Erica Hahn, standing only a few feet away from me.

My mouth goes dry and I feel that same pit in my stomach as the room becomes all too warm again. She steps up to the operating table and reviews the mess that's displayed across our patient's chest. "This gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'competitive edge,' don't ya think?"

"Don't talk to me, Erica."

I don't recognize the voice that just came out of my mouth. It was cold and unforgiving. Where were the thoughts and feelings about asking where she'd been? Asking if she was okay or why didn't she call at least once? It was suppose to be Burke. Cristina, Mark, Bailey; they all said it was Preston Burke. Why didn't I check the chart when I had the chance? Why didn't a red flag go up when I heard Seattle Presbyterian weaseled away our cardio surgeon? I knew the Chief would never allow Burke back here with that tremor. Why didn't I trust my gut?

"Your OR - your rules," she says and asks for a scalpel.

I look up from my work, shooting her a glare. I half expected to see her infamous Hahn face of professionalism, but it wasn't there. The surgical mask might have covered up her mouth and her expressions, but her eyes said it all. She looked exhausted like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. This was not the same Erica Hahn who had walked tall in the Seattle Grace hallways and could strike fear in the hearts of interns and residents. She too had a couple of inches knocked off.

The two of us worked in silence, only speaking when a new instrument was needed. No nurse or intern in the room dared to break the silence. Before I knew it, thirty minutes had passed and I was finishing up. I looked up again hoping to see Erica hard at work, but instead I found her staring straight at me.

"Are you finished, Dr. Torres?"

I nod.

"Going to Joe's after this?"

"No, I have other plans."

Backing away from the patient, a nurse unties my surgical gown and another takes off my gloves. I'll never know why I didn't shout at her what those plans are. Erica doesn't say another word to me as I exit, heading to the scrub room. But as I watch her through the window above the sink, I can tell she wanted to say so much more to me.

I head to the residents' locker room and chance out of my scrubs and back into people clothes. When I reach the lobby it's almost 7:30. Arizona is sitting on a bench, typing on her blackberry. A passerby would think she's checking important emails or something doctor worthy, but I know she's just really feeding her addiction to bejeweled.

"Hey, you ready to get the hell out of here?" I ask.

"You have no idea." She puts away her phone and stands, taking me by the arm and leading me out the door. "Think we could stop and get takeout instead?"

She must have read my mind because no matter how good I've gotten at cooking, I doubt any chicken piccata I'd make tonight would taste even somewhat decent.

***********

It's close to 3 am again and I'm wide-awake. Arizona spent a good portion of the night snuggled deep in my arms, telling me about all her worst cases. She was right for keeping it from me. She'd grown attached to many of her small patients and their families. Many nights of sleep were sacrificed in trying to research new and innovative ways to save them.

It only took two bottles of wine before Arizona passed out in my bed leaving me to the mercy of my own thoughts. I haven't told her that Erica is back. I'm not even sure how long Erica's back for or if it's even worth mentioning to her. That's when I heard it; a faint knock on the door. At first, I thought it was merely my sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on me, but then it happened again even louder.

I creep from the bed careful not to disturb Ari and head to the front door. I wasn't more than a few feet away when I could hear Erica outside talking to her self. Still, I looked through the peephole and watched as she paced back and forth.

"Stupid… God, it's so late… she's going to be so pissed…"

Finally, I open the door and she freezes. I was right about her in the operating room. She does look worn-out. Her hair has grown back out and it's straightened again. She's lost a bit of weight and as her clothes look big on her. That ugly three quarter length trench coat she always wore is wrinkled and has definitely seen better days. She is a shell of the woman I use to know.

"What are you doing here, Erica?" I ask crossing my arms.

"I wanted to see you."

"The OR wasn't enough for you?" I snap.

"You don't get to be mad at me."

"Says who? You left me in a parking lot over six months ago. You quit and wouldn't even return one phone call. Hell! Not even an email. You destroyed me, Erica. Do you know how many nights I dreamt that something truly terrible might have happened to you? Do you know how many times I went to the Chief begging him to know where you'd gone?! I think I've earned the right to be mad at you!"

She recoils at me like I've just slapped her across the face and then nervously grips at strap on her bag. The Erica I knew would have raised her voice and fought back to a comment like that. This Erica can barely look me in the eyes.

"You and I weren't working out. I needed time, but I didn't think it would be six months until I'd see you again. And I really didn't think it would be in the middle of a surgery." She sounds sincere enough, but that doesn't lessen the pain of the situation. Left in a parking lot, break downs over surgeries, and divorced, gay and abandoned? You can't just come back from that.

"But I'm here," she continues. "I'm here in the middle of the night because what I have to say to you can't wait another hour. You have to know that I'm sorry things didn't work out when we were dating, but I'm here to get my best friend back."

At first I'm silent trying to take in what she just said to me. Then the rage sets in. It's obvious that I was wrong when Yang and I spoke about how we'd react.

"You're three months too late, Erica." I step back from the door and slam it close, throwing the dead bolt. I'm done being worried about her. I was scared when we were together and I was even more scared when she left. I'm not about to go down that road again.

"I'm not giving up on you, Callie!" she yells through the door. "We both screwed up! But I can't lose you again!"

I don't listen to her anymore as I go back to my bedroom slamming the door closed. Arizona stirs slightly, mumbling in her sleep. The heat of the situation starts to magnify throughout me. I need to feel like I'm in control of something. I need to not be thinking about her. Kneeling down next to the side of the bed, I shake Arizona with my hand and slowly she wakes up.

"Wha? What's wrong?" she asks barely opening her eyes.

"I need you." It's the understatement of the year. My body feels likes like its on fire.

"I'm exhausted, Cal."

I'm not taking that excuse right now as I lean over and kiss her. I can feel her starting to come around as I deepen our kiss. It feels fierce and reckless. Her lips are so soft from sleep making me crave her even more. I should stop, but she beats me to it as she finally sits up and takes my face in her hands. "What's wrong?" she asks.

I'm not up for explaining anything either, as I take her legs and swing them over the bed. Hooking my fingers under both her PJ bottoms and panties, I pull them off in a quick tug. Then I take my hands and rub them on the outside of her thighs slowly moving in.

"Callie, we don't have to –"

"I want to." With that I slowly part her legs and make a row of kisses stopping right before her I reach her center. "Just do me a favor and don't fall on your back."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It's nearly dawn by the time I've brought her to bliss for the second time. I can see the morning sun just daring to peek through my curtains. It's faint, but it highlights Arizona's golden hair as she wavers somewhere between heaven and sleep. Her head is lying on my chest and her hand rests on my waist. She has to be up in a few moments and with our luck, her pager will go off before my alarm clock does.

I know she'll be angry at first when she wakes up and realizes how much she actually did sleep. She'll trip around my bedroom, trying to put on clothes and yell at me to make some coffee. Then of course, she'll apologize for being a grump, kiss me good morning and head to the bathroom while I get up to make coffee. I really think I could love her.

I thought I could love Erica too though.

Arizona was the first to actually mention having a family to me without the look of fear in her eyes or comment about how annoying kids can be. She's the first person I want to wake up to and the last one I want to see. Whenever we're apart, I miss the way the room always seems to magically light up with just her presence. When it's silent, I miss her stories about one of her patient's getting good news or their parents catching a break. I think one day I could go back to my parents, hold her hand in front of them and tell them how she makes the world spin for me on those days when I feel useless.

My parents.

That's another story in itself.

I look at my night stand's clock and then I hear it; that god awful pager incessantly chirping away with no regard for its exhausted owner. Arizona jolts awake and reaches for it. Her eyes struggling to focus as she reads the number. She tosses it back down next to mine before snuggling back into the comfort of my chest.

"Not important?" I ask.

"It is…" she mumbles into me. "You just wore me out to much last night."

"It's technically still last night."

Arizona snorts against me and my sad humor.

My hand lazily traces constellations from freckle to freckle on her bare back as I feel her start to slip back into a slumber. "If you get up, I'll make coffee," I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

That gets any sleep deprived doctors' attention as Ari sits up and flashes me a devious smile. "I'm going to get you back for all that sleep I could have had."

"Any time, any place."

"Good. Third floor lounge. One hour, undisrupted sleep with my orthro surgeon there to make sure no one wakes me."

"Brutal, but I think I can swing it."

She leans back down and kisses me to seal the deal. "Good, now go start that coffee," she says, wrapping a blanket around her naked body and heading out to the bathroom.

****************

"So Hahn's making midnight calls to our place now?" Cristina Yang spouts off as she slams her lunch tray down and takes the seat across from me.

Shocked, I drop my carrot during mid-bite. How the hell would she…?

"Oh, I heard. Hell, Owen heard. Gawd! The whole floor might have. So the wicked witch is back to get you? That's creepy."

I'm still speechless as Mark joins up with something less than healthy or perhaps edible on his tray. "OH! Hahn's back!" Yang announces.

"No Burke?" he asks analyzing the catatonic state I'm in.

"You think the Chief would ever let him back after everything?" Yang stuffs her face with some fries.

"I think the Chief would have let that serial killer operate here if he had a Harper Avery attached to his name." Mark waves his hand in front of my face. "Earth to Callie!"

I slap his hand away and pick up another carrot. "It's fine. She just came over to apologize and said that she'd be nothing but professional around me."

"Callie lies!" Yang interjects as she chumps down on some more fries. "She apologized, but she said she's here to win her back."

"Well well… what does C.J. Parker have to say about that?" Mark asks with his signature, smug grin.

Words seem to be failing me a lot lately as I look back and forth at my friend and my roommate.

"You did tell Robbins, right?" Yang asks.

"Not exactly--"

"Geez Cal! The way you all were yelling last night, I figured you were fighting about it," Yang says, her words barely identifiable as she kept eating.

"Sometimes Calliope's angry sex can sound similar to her angry fights, but rest assured. Callie, queen of deflecting, is about to explain that one," Arizona says as she sits down next to Yang.

Ari's stealth entrance has me wondering if she and those Heely's are doubling as a late night costumed hero. Cristina stuffs more fries in her mouth, grabs her tray and makes way for higher ground. But ever the enthusiast of what could lead to some girl action, Mark stays. His eyes are glued to us and his haughty grin never leaves him.

"Hey," I say, giving her a smile.

"Saw Erica Hahn's name is back on the surgical board," Arizona begins. She reaches across the table and takes my hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie taking my hand back and resting it in my lap under the table. Clenching my fingers into a fist, I try to find my nerve and stop the trembling from giving me away.

This is why I'm with her, isn't it? Instead of fearing the worst, my girl actually thinks about how hard this truly is for me. My silence and inability to look straight into her crystal blue eyes speaks verses of how I'm feeling. Unlike George, Erica, or Mark, I know Arizona is going to know exactly what to do.

"Even if you're not, it'll be okay. I'm here for you, no matter what," she says.

I know she means every word she says. Still, I'm about to fuck this up.

An hour's passed since Arizona fell asleep in the on-call room. I only know this because for that hour I've been answering all her pages, promising only to get her in case of life threatening emergency. Normally, Arizona would never agree to such an arrangement which tells me just how worn out she truly is. Passing up a power nap wrapped up in my arms for uninterrupted sleep? That should have tipped me off on her exhaustion status.

Did you know that being awake for eighteen hours is like the equivalent of a .07 blood alcohol level? And you wonder why your doctor has permanent bags under their eyes. I'm pretty sure my girlfriend has surpassed that. Still, watching her sleep in between pages and rounds is quickly ranking as one of my all time favorite past times.

Her pager's chirps on again. Immediately, I recognize the number.

This makes me wonder if God's up there on the clouds holding a magnifying glass and angling the sun directly on me. Oh sure! Some Christian out there is probably quick to answer that by saying God only gives you so many problems because he loves you. Here's a thought! Could he love me a little bit less because it's Erica who's paging my girlfriend and I'm not about to wake Ari up for this one.

Heading down the cardio wing, I can hear Erica speaking to a bunch of interns and their residents. Her trademark tenor can still make a hospital staff work drop everything and listen. I attempt to slip in the back of the room unnoticed, but manage to notice over a tray. The sound echoes in the room as everyone looks. A few interns snicker at my clumsiness, which only causes me to kick the tray as I look back up. She stops and glances up at me, acknowledging my presence with a warm smile and continues to lecture.

"… the recovery should take anywhere between four to six days if no complications arise and there won't be because you all will be watching the patient around the clock. Check the board for any further information."

Erica's always been so thorough with her surgeries and she really can teach. You just have to prove yourself by listening and following directions before she ever lets you touch a scalpel.

The crowd disperses as Erica gathers up her papers. I wait patiently in the back for everyone to leave.

"You paged?" I asked.

"Unless you've changed your name and specialty, I'm pretty sure I paged a Dr. Arizona Robbins from peds," she says putting her things back into her briefcase.

She's still rocking that same snarky attitude that appealed to me the first time around. Quickly, I fold my arms, trying to hide any sense of doubt I have from answering this page. She's comes closer to me, breaking down each mental wall of defense I've put up with every advancing step.

"I'm, uh, I, I'm answering all her pages for the time being. So shoot. I'm sure I can answer whatever you need," I stutter.

"You sure about that, Cal?" Erica asks standing close enough to me that she could either throw a wicked punch without me being able to dodge it or kiss me.

"D -Doctor of Medicine," I say pointing my stitched name and credentials on my jacket. "I'm sure."

"I was just going to tell Dr. Robbins that I heard she was dating my ex and I was here to win her back," Erica leans in and gives me a quick peck on the cheek as she turns to leave. "Leaves fall, Cal. Then they also grow back. I want us to give it another shot. Call me later."

With that, she leaves.

As soon as I'm sure she's out of sight and ear shot, my legs give out and I collapse to the floor hitting that stupid tray again. Thoughts, emotions, and feelings that I had buried long ago being to rise up. She's here to get me back. It's not just to get her best friend back. The warmth from her lips on my cheek is being to burn at my skin. The familiar butterfly sensation I use to get from her is begging to take over my conscious.

I feel my blackberry on my hip star to vibrate. It snaps me back into reality as I look at it. It's Ari. She's sent me a picture of herself sleeping back in that on-call room. I scroll down to read the message attached to it.

'Miss you. Come back.'


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Beautiful!" Arizona exclaims as I angle my reflection just right in the store window, so a displayed necklace appears to be around my bare neck.

She's right too. It's an absolutely gorgeous piece hanging a thin golden string that looks like it's been hand woven by God himself. On it is a green pendent probably huge emerald with a small heart inscribed in the bottom left curve. Ari comes behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, reflecting in the window with me. We fit together so perfectly.

"…and so is the necklace to," she adds giving me a peck on cheek.

Taking her by the hand, we continue down the street. It's become our new Saturday night ritual: Window shopping for things Arizona could never afford and things I use to not think twice about buying. Some Saturdays we'd spend hours getting lost in the shop windows, dreaming about what would look good on each other. Other Saturdays would be harder as I'd fall to pieces remembering how I had to adjust to my new lifestyle. Thankfully, Arizona would sweep me back up and we'd go back to my over priced apartment where she'd remind me again and again how getting financially dropped was completely worth it.

Tonight is one of those nights though. I can't get that necklace out of my head. Sure, it was beautiful, sparkly and probably would look a hundred times better on Arizona than me, but I have to eat this week.

As luck would have it, Ari spots a gelato shop across the street. "Mmm… Split a banana cone with you," she suggests.

"Sounds good," I say as my phone rings. "You go ahead. I'm gonna take it."

I dig my phone out of my purse and freeze at the name upon the screen. I hit answer and bring it to my ear. Persistent to a fault, it's Erica.

"Erica… What's up?"

"You first. What are you up to this evening?" Erica's sultry voice sings through the phone.

"Window shopping."

"Sound invigorating. Wanna do something that's actually fun?"

"Go on…" I ask, slightly intrigued.

"Scored the darts board at Joe's and I've got to say Sloan and the Little Grey are no where near the level you're at. Care to join me?" Her voice sounds so good after all these months, making me blush as I remember our first darts competition. "So what do you say, Torres?"

"Erica, I dunno. I'm kinda out with—"

"Bring her. I'm pretty sure I could take Arizona right off the map in darts."

Her comment makes laugh as I stare at my feet, weighing the options about going.

"We could split a pitcher or two. Maybe catch up on the past few months. I promise I won't try to take your clothes off. Come on, Callie!"

"Callie?"

I my face jolts up from my feet as I see Arizona standing in front of me with a cup of gelato. Quickly, I hit end on my phone and throw it back into my purse. I'm sure I just look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Everything okay?" Arizona asks.

"Yeah, uh yeah. That was just Mark, on the phone. They're at Joe's. Nothing big! Just at Joe's, drinking. Wondering if we wanted to go," I stumble over my words. Lying on spot has never been one of my strong suits.

"Did you want to go?" She asks.

Deep down I know I want to say yes because a part of me did what to know what Erica had been up to. But if we went I'd be leading her on. Fueling the hope that she and I would get back together.

Arizona's quick to cover my silence as she feeds me a spoon full of the gelato. "Me neither. So how about you and I head back to your place and make good use this awesome treat."

Beer and darts or questionable gelato usage? I'm afraid Arizona has won this round without even trying. But who says I can't at least try to do both tonight?

* * *

While Arizona slept cocooned deep between my pillows and comforter, I patted around the bedroom looking for my other shoe. Like usual, our phones sat next to each other on the night stand except mine was open with a text message reading, 'I know you're still awake. You should come by still. Be here 'til last call – Erica.' With only an hour until closing time, I could be in and out before Ari even noticed me missing from the bed.

After an epic search, I finally find my shoe buried beneath a pink lacy bra. Not one of mine, however it's definitely a number I wouldn't mind seeing Arizona wearing again because undressing her is like unwrapping that ultimate Christmas present. Every gift gets better and I discovered a new thing I've grown to love about her.

A quick glance at her brings a smile to my face as I take a little bit of pride in her idyllic slumber. Anyone is capable of getting their partner off, but it takes true brilliance in getting them to this state. She shifts in her sleep exposing one breast from under the comforter, still red and pointed from licking strategically placed gelato off them. Her movement causes me to freeze, but not with delight. She's a heavy sleeper, but if this is one occasion where she does wake up I don't want to have to lie to her about where I'm going. Once she's settled, I make my way out of the bedroom and then out of the apartment, not letting my guard down until I'm inside Joe's.

As usual, the place is packed with interns, nurses, and the few attending significant others. Mark and Lexie are nowhere to be found and I'm not surprised. Lexie did not get the alcohol tolerance gene that Meredith was oh-so blessed with. However, Owen and Yang are still there. The two of them are on their way out as I quickly duck behind a table full of people.

"… NO! We need to go kick her ass! She broke Cal—" Yang spouted off as Owen lead her by the arm.

"We need go home and be happy just like they're probably doing. Hahn doesn't need any more flack from you tonight."

"Were you not in the same OR as me when she lost it?! Oh my god you –" Before my intoxicated roommate can finish her story, Owen has her out the door and off to our apartment. I say a silent prayer that they or rather Yang doesn't wake Arizona when they get` there.

Turning back to the task at hand, I scan the bar for Erica and of course, I find her at our favorite spot, the darts boards. She's rolling one of the darts between her thumb and her index finger while staring at the board. Just like in surgery, Erica doesn't make a move unless it's carefully calculated. The dim light catches her golden hair, illuminating her features like a glistening sunset on the ocean as she switches back and forth on her feet.

In her other hand is a bottle of beer, which she brings to her lips taking an elongated swig before gathering her confidence and throwing the dart. It hits the triple ring on the three. To the casual onlooker, they might think Erica missed the bulls' eye, but I know better. Erica always hits was she's aiming for. A smirk appears on her face, as she goes to collect her darts. I take it as my chance to approach her.

"Nice shot," I start.

She turns to me as she smirk becomes a big, toothy grin. "I didn't think you were coming."

"And miss out on free beer?"

"Free beer?" she asks raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'll have what you're having," I say taking the darts out of her hand.

She brings her beer to lips again, but I snatch that away too and quickly gulp down the last it. "Hmm… you might have to bring a pitcher. " I say taking a sit at the table sit across from the darts board.

Without another word, Erica leaves for the bar and returns with two frosted mugs and a pitcher of an orange-amber beer. She sets them down and pours us each a glass. There's silence between us. It should feel awkward, but I can't help but cherish it.

Finally, she breaks the quiet. "So, are you going to ask where I've been or what?"

Leaning, back in my chair, I narrow my eyes and hold my beer close my chest like I'm drinking a latte at a coffee shop. "So Erica… where in the world have you been since you dumped me in that parking lot?"

The wheels in her head are turning. I can tell that on top of her carefully formulated darts games, she's got a hypothesis for me too.

"Maine," she answers.

I draw a blank at her response, saying what I'm thinking before I can stop. "What the hell is in Maine?"

"My beach house."

"A beach house in Maine? Erica, its cold there! Did someone sell you a bridge in New York City when they talked you into a beach house in Maine?" My words as cold as this house I'm imaging where Erica's remained for the past six months.

"It was my parents. I bought it from them after I finish my residency. It's remote, and a great place to clear your head. You should come visit sometime," she said sounding sincere enough.

"For six months though?"

"There's a hospital about an hour south of it, so it's not like I was just sitting around licking my wounds," She quietly says. Her face looks uncomfortable like she's reliving something. I can't help, but wonder if it's the night she abandoned me.

"Still," I continued. "You ended up back here, so I'm guessing Maine wasn't your scene."

"Something like that…" she trails back off into her thoughts.

We each take the moment to awkwardly sip at our beers. Neither of us are any good at keeping our secrets buried.

"Can't help but notice you didn't exactly crawl in a hole and hold up these past few months."

It's a low blow, but I try to not let it seem like she got to me. "If you remember it's kinda hard to hide out at Seattle Grace."

"So this Peds surgeon made the first move then?"

"Don't talk about her." I snap.

She reels back at me, but I'm quick to cover.

"This is supposed to be me and you catching up."

"Whatever," She puts up her hands in surrender. "I'm surprised you even showed."

"Free drinks and you're surprised I showed?" The sarcasm drips from my mouth as I knock back the rest of my beer. "Please Erica! The last night you said you'd pick up the check, I drank the tab well over $100. Remember that?"

She laughs then quickly refills my glass. "Five minutes later and I would have been gone. I sent you another text just before you walked in."

I reach down in my pocket for my phone, but find its not there. Panic seeps in as I remember it sitting next to Arizona's on my nightstand. How could I forget it? Lying there with her last text message open for the world to read. Before I use to think it was sweet and domestic-like, but the thought of my phone chirping away on the night stand and a half-asleep Arizona reading Erica's texts has quickly changes it. Domestic is bad, very very bad.

"Erica, what did it say?" I ask trying to keep the terror at bay.

"Oh you know," She drains the rest of her beer as I wait unable to breathe. "Just that she's smart to keep you on such a short leash and that I was leaving in 5. Just ignore it when you get home."

It's too late to respond as front door to the bar opens and Arizona enters.


	6. Chapter 6 A

Chapter Six A

"Erica, if any part of you cares for me then do not tell her I was here!" I spit out at Erica.

She follows the direction of my petrified eyes as we both stare at Arizona looking around the bar for me. Her hand is wrapped so tightly around my phone like she wants to squeeze the lies out of it. Why did I forget it? I tried so hard not to wake her and I left the one thing that could.

Erica places her hand over mine, bringing me back from my thoughts.

"Go," she says.

"But—"

"Go now. I'll cover for you."

Quickly, I gather my things and make for the bar as Erica gets ready to intercept Arizona. This is classic sneaking around. I'm no better than George right now. Leaving my freshly fucked girlfriend to go meet up with your ex at a bar where all your friends hang out? What was I thinking?

Thankfully, Joe says nothing as I crouch down behind the bar before Arizona has the common sense to look at the dart's corner. I never had the nerve to take Arizona over to play a round. It never felt right to have her do something that I considered foreplay with Erica. Just one round, glass of wine or maybe a pitcher of beer and I was ready to take my cardio surgeon home.

Glancing over the bar, I see Erica looking directly at Arizona. I hoped to see her face looking like a competitor, but all I saw was pain. Arizona was exactly who she wanted to be. God, my time with her was too short.

Joe stands right next to me as we both watch Arizona approach Erica, gripping her bag and trying not to look nervous.

"Sit back. I'll let you know if she takes a swing," he says as I slide back behind the bar.

"Who? Erica or Arizona?" I ask

"Well, who have you hurt the most tonight?" His comments sting, but no truer words can be spoken as to what I've done this evening.

I look up to Joe, my eyes pleading him to be quiet as I try to listen to their conversation.

"Where is she?" Arizona asks.

"Arizona Robbins, correct?" Erica asks, playing innocent. I've forgotten that despite knowing of each other, the two have never met face to face.

"And I believe you're Erica Hahn?" Erica nods to her question. Arizona motions to my empty chair. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Sure, I'm afraid my date has run out of me for the night, Can't say I blame her though," Erica chuckles to herself.

Arizona takes the chair, then looks up to Joe. "Joe! Can I get a Vodka Red Bull over here?"

"How 'bout you get off your ass and get it yourself!" Joe fires back refusing to be anyone's cocktail waitress.

My fist connects with the back of Joe's leg.

"Oww!"

"You okay?" Arizona asks.

"Great… fine. Stubbed my toe," he hisses out.

"Need medical attention?" Ari asks.

"No, no… stay right there." He says and begins to grab the materials needed for my girlfriend's beverage.

"God sakes, Joes! Why don't you just tell the Gestapo where Anne Frank is too!" I mutter under my breath.

I peer back over the bar to take a look at my former lover and my current. The two look civil to one another. To the onlooker, they would probably think they were just two girls out for a drink after a long shift at the hospital.

My phone is still gripped tightly in Arizona's hand; I know she's seen the text messages from Erica. Hell, she probably saw that Erica called right before our gelato romp. So why is she seem so breezy? This isn't like Arizona. She's confrontational and decisive. This must be it. It's calm before the inevitable storm that I've caused.

"So you left pretty unexpectedly from Seattle Grace the last time you were here. Why was that?" Arizona asks.

Erica nearly spits out her drink before Ari's even done asking. It's clear what strategy she's taking. She wants Erica to confess to getting me out here in the middle of the night.

"Uh… A lot of reasons actually. Richard said I couldn't teach, our rankings with down, interns were not being turned in for malpractice—"

"All good reasons, but let's be honest. That's not the kicker." Arizona says.

Joe finishes her drink and sets it down on the bar. He's about to carry it over to her when Arizona hops off her chair and makes for the bar. Quickly, I duck down again, praying that she didn't see me.

I hear her snatch the drink off the bar and head back to the table.

"Seems that you already know why I left," Erica coolly says.

Slowly, I turn around to look over the bar. But Joe, whose eyes have not left the scene unfolding before him, places his hand on top of my head and pushes me back down.

"I just wanted to hear you say it," Arizona starts as she knocks back her drink like a champ before she slams the now empty glass down on the table. I'm almost sure she's made some heads turn in their direction.

"I'm going to cut to the chase, Dr. Hahn. You're the one who's been texting my girlfriend to come out here in the middle of the night, correct?" Arizona asks.

Joe gives me a kick in the side to gain my attention. "Blackberry with pink stickers on it?"

"I didn't put the stickers on," I mutter, casting my eyes down.

"Date was going bad. I was trying to get her to come out and rescue me," Erica covers. "But she never showed."

"Don't lie to me," I can hear Ari's voice waver a bit and my heart breaks knowing my recklessness has caused it.

"Not lying. She never showed."

"And the second glass?"

I tug on Joe's pant leg and whisper to him "What's happening?"

"Arizona is pointing at your glass," Joe says, not taking his eyes off them.

"It's my date's," Erica says. "She's in the restroom."

"How convenient…"Arizona says with a big sigh. "Look, you wanna hang out with Callie then that's fine. Callie's a big girl who doesn't need my permission."

"Really? Because seeing you down here right now is kinda telling a different story," Erica fires back.

The claws are out as I look up at Joe. He's watching like its May sweeps after a writer's strike.

"Oh, like the story where you're trying to get my girlfriend to ditch me for you?"

"I told you, Callie didn't show."

"And I told you not to lie to me!"

"You know what, Dr. Robbins? You said Callie is a big girl who doesn't need your permission. If you don't trust that statement one hundred percent then why are you out here?"

Erica turns to leave, but it stopped by Ari grabbing hold of her hand.

"I hope you know how much you hurt her," Ari says, a bit calmer than before.

"How I –"

"When you left," Arizona interrupts. "I hope you know that she felt horrible for what she did to you with Sloan and for not taking your side on this whole Izzie Stevens thing. But you crushed her. She was still trying to figure herself out, but apparently it wasn't fast enough for you. There is no handbook on how to be a lesbian, Erica. But one thing's for sure; you'll never be _kind of _good enough for her."

With that Erica gets up pursing her lips in anger and leaves.

A moment later, the bar door opens and slams again. Closing my eyes, I wait a moment, hoping that didn't just happen; that this was all a dream. Joe brings me back with the sound of the cash register opening.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Getting you the bill both your girlfriends stuck you with," he says.

Frustrated at my stupidity, I bang my head back against the bar then stand up to get my credit card out of my back pocket. Once I've paid for everything, I head to Seattle Grace to sleep off the remainder of this night in an on call room.

When I wake, I find my cell phone lying on my pillow, next to my head.

*************

Days passed and I found Arizona starting to act more like she was in the pep band then on the cheerleading team. She'd blown me off for a "good night of sleep" more than once and she started taking working lunch breaks in the attending lounge instead of the cafeteria with me. Not once did she ask me about that night at Joe's.

Erica was the same way. She scheduled back to back consolations and surgeries. When she wasn't in the hospital, she was off at Seattle Presbyterian. I couldn't help but wonder if she was trying to transfer back there. After the past two years Seattle Grace has had, they're probably doing better in the rankings than us.

None of this slowed me down though. I was already on my third extra shift in the ER. It was blissful quiet for once, but I dare not say that out loud over fear of being bombarded with ambulances. This is my way of attempting to avoid both Erica and Arizona, not knowing what to say to either of them. I heard Ari say it all at the bar. She called Erica out for how she broke up with me. She stood up for me when all I could do was cower behind the bar and pray she didn't look there. I'm messing this all up again for stupid unfinished business with my first.

However, at this very moment all three of us are in the hospital. While I sit at the front desk in quiet ER, all the Surgical Attendings at Seattle Grace are crowded in a conference with the Chief discussing some case. It's probably malpractice or some type of lawsuit. Not recalling anything huge get botched lately, I feel comfortable enough to stay out of the loop on this one. Still, I can't help but imagine the dirty looks or perhaps the lack there of, Erica and Arizona are giving each other. Are they sitting near each other or did they choose opposite corners like boxers waiting for the bell to sound?

The interns are taking turns standing by the door and pressing their ears against the door trying to find out what's going on. It's like a right of passage or something because I did the same thing with my fellow interns. Knowing the latest gossip or who to avoid or who to cozy up to was valuable information for anything intern. And really good information could lead to scrubbing in on surgeries.

Cristina joins me behind the desk and kicks up her feet, while munching on some chips from the vending machine.

"Not so super secret attendings' meeting still going on?" she asks.

"Yup! And I'll bet ya next month's rent that before it's over, one of those interns is going to either get a splinter in their ear or crash through the door."

"Splinter sounds about right," Cristina says.

"Did you hear anything else on why they're meeting?"

"Malpractice. Personally, I'm hoping it has to do with Hahn," Cristina says. The pleasure she would take in that happening reeks in her voice.

"No way."

She offers me her chip bag, but I shake my head no.

"Well, it better not land me or my interns on probation. I can't afford to break in another set of them again."

"You mean you can't afford to lose Lexipedia."

Yang's face remains still, but I know she'd smile if it wouldn't damage her robotic reputation.

Down the hall, we see the interns quickly back away from the conference room door. It must be over. Yang helps me straighten up the desk before the Chief or some other department head sees disaster that should be the ER front desk. Then she nudges me to look up.

There is the father of Arizona's lost child patient and a few lawyers leaving. Instantly, I'm on my feet and heading towards the room when an arm catches mine. It's Erica.

"Now's not the time to go riding in there on your white horse," she whispers to me.

I look up at the Chief who's exiting with a few of Seattle Grace's own lawyers; scratch that. It's all the hospital lawyers.

"What happened?" I ask.

Erica narrows her eyes at me. "You don't know?"

I shake my head. "I know who that father is and Yang said it was malpractice, but I don't see–"

"It the worst false accusation I've ever seen and they're making her some sort of example. She's not taking it well."

"Taking it well?! Erica, she didn't take it well when it happened the first time," I shout at her, frustrated even more. "How the hell do you think she's taking it with that jackass of a father pointing fingers about his fatal mistake?!"

I try to free my arm from her grasp, but Erica holds tight.

"Give her a moment, Callie!" She pleads.

Yang comes up behind me. "Sometime wrong here?"

Erica drops my arms and takes a few steps back. "Nothing that concerns you, Yang."

She gives Cristina a disgust look and continues on down the hallway. I don't stick around to hear Cristina's snide comment about winning that round with Hahn. In fact, I'm practically to the conference room doorway before she notices I'm gone.

Maybe I should have waited because I wasn't expecting to find Arizona sitting so calmly at the end of the table. Her butterfly scrub cap was lying in front of her on top of a stack of files. Though her hair was still tied back, a few ringlets had snuck out and were complimenting her face. There were no tears running down her face. No short breaths or discontented sighs escaping from her lips. She looked composed and focused.

"Arizona?"

Snapping out of whatever thought was keeping her occupied, she looks at up me not saying a word.

"Ari, are you okay?"

She's silent for a moment and I'm almost hoping that it's because she's about to burst out into some type of emotion so I know she'll be okay. Instead, she remains as calm and collected as she was when I first entered the room. It scares the hell out of me even more than when I found her lying in the shower under scolding hot water.

"Calliope, we need to break up."


	7. Chapter 6 B

**Chapter Six B**

"_They're supposed to love me for me. You can't choose family!" I sobbed on the edge of the bed. _

_Arizona sat next to me wrapped in the bed sheets looking like she wanted to be any where else in the world. I don't blame her. The way my tears are falling and the way my careless cries are coming out, it sounds like I'm accusing her. At least I'm not spouting at her in Spanish this time. _

_It's only been a week since my father came for a visit, but its enough for me. My family has disowned me. My father blocked my number and then proceeded to shut off my phone service after I tried to call every house, work, and assistant's line I could think of. My mother only answered once and proceeded to cry about how I could do this to her before hanging up. My sister didn't even give me that liberty. She just ignored every one of my texts and voicemails.  
_

_My credit cards got declined; my bank account was cleared out. Hell, Daddy even took the money I've made from working at the hospital. I'm waiting for a tow truck to show up and take my classic T-bird back to Miami. The only thing they can't take from me right now is this apartment (because it's in my name,) and the blonde surgeon who's still keeping silent during my sobfest._

_I've been made an out cast by the ones who created me, cared for me when I was sick, taught me right from wrong, and use to love me unconditionally. Now that I've found someone I might want to do the same with, I'm being punished instead of embraced. My thoughts and words are beginning to run together and I can't bring myself to look at Arizona. I know she's searching for the right thing to say. She deals with grieving parents, lawyers, superiors, and children all day, but my situation has thrown her._

"_I'm me! I've always been me! They can't just abandon me! I—"_

_Arizona covers my mouth with her hand and pushes me back onto the bed She sits astride my waist successfully pinning me down. A simple shut up would have sufficed, but this works too. _

"_Coming out to your family goes bad or good and yours obviously went bad. Super bad in fact, but listen to me, Calliope. I'm not abandoning you. Understand? It's going to take time to accept this. Jesus, Cal! Didn't it take you awhile to come to terms with it yourself?"_

_I nod my head thinking of all the time I spent with Mark, trying to prove my attraction to Erica wasn't real. It feels like that took an eternity._

"_So it's going to take some time for them to accept it," She continues. "But until then, I'm not abandoning you."_

_I lie still for a moment trying to process what was just said to me. She removes her hand from my mouth. _

"_Promise me?" I speak, desperation filling my voice._

_She leans down and places a gentle kiss on my forehead, then my nose, and finally my mouth. That's all the answer I need now._

_**********_

"Wh—Wha… What?"

"Whatever we've been doing,"Arizona explains. "Has clearly run its course. I think we should break up."

I know what she said, but my head is not processing it. If we were really breaking up, Arizona would be upset or angry. Not this, a shell of the woman. She's dark.

"Ari, baby, you're just upset. Don't – You don't mean this. Let's get out of here!"

"Let me stop you there, Calliope. My work is suffering, my girlfriend is sneaking around on me, and I've been assigned to see Dr. Wyatt for the next six weeks pending a suspension. We're done."

"NO!"

She gets up and gathers her files, leaving the scrub behind.

"Arizona stop!" I cry out, but she keeps walking.

"Don't make a scene, Callie."

With that she's gone, taking that last bit of my sanity with her. I don't cry, but I can't seem to find the strength to move. I end up collapsing onto a chair for god knows how long. I feel just as numb as she looked.

"Callie?"

I look up to see Erica at the door dressed in her street clothes.

"Callie, do you want me to walk you home?" she asks.

"I don't want to go home," I whisper. Home has beautiful reminders of Arizona from the picture of us at Alex and Izzie's wedding on my nightstand to the half eaten box of pizza in my fridge. I can't go home.

"We could go back to my house," she offers.

Nodding, I stand on shaky legs about to collapse back down when her strong hands latch on my arm and one around my waist. "I got you," she says to me, holding me up as she leads us out of the conference room.

She acts as my shield as we pass the nurses, and interns who've obviously been waiting to watch this train wreck leave the station.

"Don't you have patients to see!" Erica yells in her imitating voice.

They scurry like mice from a cat down hallways and into exam rooms.

"Thank you, Erica."

She smiles at me. "Come on. I believe I have a bottle of wine sitting in the fridge with your name on it."


	8. Interlude 1

_a/n: When you get stuck, take a step back and write from another's perspective. Or least that's what I did back when I originally wrote this and it worked. :) thanks for the comments and readership.  
_

**Interlude – Erica**

_The glass is half full. The glass is half full. The glass is half full._

Right now my glass feels empty and is somewhere lying in pieces. And yet the glass in front of me is half full along with two empty bottles of wine, and an orthopedic surgeon unconscious and scrawled out on my couch.

I had a plan and the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Things were becoming _complicated_ for me in Maine when Richard called and asked if I'd be interested in closing out some of my former patient's cases. The hospital needed some good publicity and I need an escape from the humid summer months of Maine. And of course, there was Callie.

It took Callie and me almost half and a year to get it right. Then it took less than two months for us to screw it up again. She and I were never going to work as lovers and I knew it, but my pride wouldn't accept that answer. So when I heard she was dating a pediatric surgeon I became more than jealous, enraged even because she could make it work with this roller skating child, but not with me.

Jealousy is definitely my deadly sin. I was jealous of Burke always being one step ahead of me. I was jealous of Izzie Stevens getting away with stealing my patient's heart and I was definitely jealous of Robbins getting my girl. Lus, the plan to win back my best friend suddenly went up in flames and the plan to win back my girlfriend became top priority

It took more than an hour of watching Callie drown herself in wine before I've wondered if she did the same when I walked away. Was she incapable of functioning because of grief? Did Mark or Cristina have to peel her off the floor and tell the sun was still going to rise tomorrow? I remember her after George. Her pride was seriously wounded. She didn't trust easily and she won't again once she's sober enough to let today's events sink in.

My heart is breaking for her just like it did when I walked away that night in November. I know I walked away from her, but she left me no option. In this moment, I realize Callie's not perfect, but she's a perfect friend for me. Why someone didn't snatch her up sooner and never let go or why George would hurt such an amazing woman, I'll never understand. And with Arizona breaking up with her, it seemed all the stars were lining up for me for once.

Until I heard it; a soft knock at the door, so faint that if I had the television up any higher I might have missed it. I check Callie before answering it. She's out for the night and going to be facing a rough morning. Pulling a blanket over her, I lean down and place a gentle kiss on her forehead then open the front door.

"Erica!" Arizona cries.

I'm faster than light as I step outside into the Archfield's hallway closing the door behind me.

"What are you doing here, Robbins?"

She looks rough, dressed in lounge pants and a college hoodie that's seen better days. A good number of blondes with fair skin look eight times as red and puffy when they cry and she's no exception. Her nose wrinkles, as she tries to hold back another sob.

"Calliope wasn't at home and her phone's off. I didn't know where else to look. Is she here?"

"She doesn't want to see you."

Lie, lie lie! She's all Callie wants to see. I know this whole thing could be solved if I just let her in right now. My best friend is a mess and all I've managed to do is make her a drunken mess. This is out of my hands. The right thing would be to let them talk, but I just got her back. It's too soon to send her back to Kansas. I need more time to apologize.

"Please! I was out of my mind. I just need to speak with her and let her know I'm sorry."

"Just go away."

"But I love her."

With that the peds surgeon's last shred of sanity broke. She sinks down against the wall, defeated. Deep down, I think I am too. Callie's in love with her. You wouldn't drink yourself through two bottles of wine unless your heart was truly broken because no hangover is worth it.

Arizona sniffles and then looks up at me with those bright blue eyes glistening with tears. She is me, younger and with less edge, but she really is me.

"She's all I've got left. I just needed a moment to think. My career was about to go up in flames. Please! I just want to tell her I'm sorry."

"Look kid!" Yeah, calling her kid didn't feel right either, but when you act like one, you get called one. "I sat in on the same meeting you did. Every attending in that room knows a case like that would be thrown out of court in a heartbeat!"

"But—"

"Stop! Okay? This guy was out at an ungodly hour, exhausted to the core! He's lucky the hospital doesn't counter sue with parental negligence!"

"I'm sorry. I just don't handle confrontation that—"

"Then start learning! Because when Callie breaks, she's gonna need you to handle it all for her!"

The words are out of my mouth before I realize it. Callie needs Arizona. She needs someone to be goofy with her, to see the gray instead of the black and white all the time. Maybe that's it? That's the one difference between this Pediatric surgeon and me. Callie didn't need me. She might have wanted me, but never did she need me.

"Wait 'til the morning," I snap at her as I open the door and go back into the hotel suite.

The second the door clicks close, I hear Arizona break into a fit of sobs. My conscious stays to turn around and let the girl in, but I can't. So I turn my attention back to Callie, who's moved since I left her. Now curled up facing the couch, she's holding a bright scrub close to her chest. It's got to be Arizona's because I'm not sure who else would choose a cap with millions of little butterflies all over it.

I sit on an easy chair next to her then take the half emptied glass of wine that remains of our pity party. Tonight I need to have my best friend here, while I mourn the loss of what could have been.

"To us," I morbidly toast and knock it back in a single gulp.

With an emptied glass, I look to the coffee table and find my pager sitting right next to Callie's.

What am I getting myself into?


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

After peeling myself off Erica's couch, I knew I couldn't afford to break down in the middle of a surgery again or at least that's what I told myself. So I took a week off and retreated to the sanctuary of my room, only leaving when hunger got the best of me. Between Yang, Hunt, and Erica, my patients were tended to and the world continued to turn, the sun still came up, ambulances still woke me at all hours, and I watched my ex girlfriend drive into work every morning.

Something felt different though as I lay awake somewhere between midnight and dawn. Not even the Ambien Erica had prescribed could get me to fall asleep. I tossed and turned for hours, torturing myself with thoughts of Arizona. I'd messed up, and like a coward I hadn't even tried to see her to fix things. But something felt different during this long agonizing night, like I was being kept awake for a reason. I rolled up out of bed and went to the window, opening it for a bit of fresh air.

And there she was beneath the street light. It haloed her like the saint I know she is. She's in her scrubs, a light blue cap under her arm and a lit cigarette in the adjoining hand. I reach for my phone and dial her number. No matter how many times I've deleted, reentered and deleted again, I couldn't erase her number from my memory. I hit send and bring the phone to my ear.

"Answer… Answer… Damnit!"

On the street below Arizona jolted to the sound of her phone going off. Clearly, she wasn't expecting it to ring. She grabs her phone and I watch as her eyes glaze over my number on her phone's screen. Taking one last drag of confidence from her cigarette, she answers.

"Calliope?"

My voice freezes in my throat. During my more lucid moments of the past week, I'd imagined she'd come back to me. She'd seen the error in this and come riding up on a white horse, to hear my apology and take me back. But there she is and I have no idea on Earth what to say to her.

"Callie, you there?"

"You're smoking?" I choke out.

"I told you. I only smoke when—"

"When you know you're in trouble," I finish.

Arizona paces back and forth under the street light. "I just – I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You've been gone and no one will tell me if you were okay or not."

"I'm not okay."

Her shoulders slump as she sits on the street curb. "I'm sorry."

I should probably say it's not her fault, because that's the truth. But we all know that's not the whole truth.

"You can come up if you want."

I'm halted by the sound of her pager going off. She doesn't look down at it.

"You should get that."

"I'm sorry," She cries.

"You said that already."

"I just wanted you to know."

"Arizona, just answer the page."

"Wait a sec!"

"Small children! They only have—"

"I know, I know… small chances to get better," she sighs finishing my sentence now.

"Go."

I hang up and give her a smile before heading back to my bed. On my nightstand is a photo of her, smiling back at me. "I'm sorry, baby," I say and reach for another Ambien tablet, taking it without water. It burns a bit, but all the twinge is forgotten as I carefully take her photo, tuck it beneath my arm, and close my eyes.

Sleep is closer than I expected as the pills finally quickly take affect. My world fills with fog as my picture frame starts to feel more like my girl. Needless to say, I take comfort in her presence even if it's hallucinated. It's one of the few things I think Izzie Stevens and had in common. So like her, a take what I can, and succumb to my dream world and my dream girl.

The chirp of my pager breaks the silence, lulling me out my ambien-induced sleep. My hand reaches for it, but as I look at the screen I find it wasn't mine at all. Quickly, I look at the end of my bed at the doorway. Arizona is standing there with her own pager in hand. Yang is behind her looking less than pleased to be awake at this hour.

"You look like shit," I mutter, but I'm almost positive my bed head is ten times worse.

"Roller girl offered me forty bucks to let her in," Yang says as she heads back to her room.

"Please tell me you answered that page," I say and roll back over.

"Calliope…" Arizona begins, entering my room and shutting the door behind her.

It hurts to look at her because this is my fault. She comes closer; sitting right next to me placing her hand on my back.

She continues, "It was wrong of me to break up with you at work. For that, you'll never know how truly sorry I am."

"But we're still over?"

She doesn't hesitate nor does she give a response because we both answer to that. I sit back up and look her dead in the eyes, silently willing her to give us a chance.

"You know the say about people coming into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime? I think this was one of those situations," She begins.

"No!," I interrupt. "You were never some season or reason or whatever the hell you wanna call it. You and I were supposed to be a lifetime. I felt it the moment you introduced yourself to me. I mess up, okay? I'm far from perfect and I'm not one to beg ever, but goddamnit Arizona, I love you!"

"Don't ever say that. You have no idea what it means to love someone."

"You think I don't know that?" I cry out. "I loved George! Married him even! I helped him through his--"

Her hands quickly cup my face and pull me in for a kiss. The taste of menthol takes over my taste buds as she forces her tongue pass my teeth and into my mouth. I find myself more turned on than I've ever been in my life.

My head leans into the soft touch of her hand as she moves into my hair lacing her fingers into my tangled locks. I look to her eyes for a connection, but all I see the anger flooding her vision like a predator about to take down its prey. All blood and energy flows down as I prepare for her.

"I love you," I cry again and again, each time more desperate then the last, but she doesn't answer me.

A hand snakes underneath my shirt and pulls it over my head. Instantly, my body purses at the rush of cold air. She pushes me back onto my bed so hard that I bounce until she lies herself across my body. Two pink lips attach themselves to mine, eagerly kissing me into oblivion. Her delicate surgeon hands cups my breasts, roughly kneading them, and pinching my nipples until they're aching for more.

Pulling away, I gasp for air, but it isn't long before she has me again leaving no inch of my mouth untouched by hers. She bites down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. A scream reverberates from me before she silences it with a gentler kiss. She's dangerously toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

Arizona then moves down to my neck, fusing us together in desperation. She nibbles then licks at the wounds she's causes across my neck and collarbone.

"Ari!"

"I … want … you," she whispers between each tender bite.

Moving further south, she removes her hand from one of my breasts and replaces it with her affectionate mouth, suckling at my breast and rolling my puckered tip with her tongue. Her hand then snakes around my back and down into my panties, violently cupping my ass.

Gasps escape my lips as I find my own two hands betraying me, reaching for her shirt to free her from her clothing confinements. Feeling her naked skin against mine is about that only thing that will quench this fire she's started in me. I need more of her and yet, she stops me cold in my quest.

"Tell me you love me!" she demands.

"I love you," I hiss as she grinds her hips down.

Her hand then moves from my back to my front, cupping my sex. Ari smirks knowing she caused the flood of wetness in my lower half. "Say it like you mean it!"

"Arizona please! I love you with everything I have."

She leads a trail of kisses from the valley between my breasts to my hips, leaving no spot untouched and unloved. Settling between my legs, she hooks two fingers around my panties and PJ bottoms and pulls them down freeing me from my cotton prison. The scent of my desire fills the room as she breaths it in then takes me with her mouth.

Immediately, my hips buck at the warmth of her on me, toying with my swollen sex. She's quick to control the situation, guiding me back down to the bed. We've barely begun, but I'm so close rapidly inhaling and exhaling as her tongue moves lower.

"Arizona…"

"Again!" she muttered against me, blowing cool air onto my increasing warm sex.

"I love you!"

Taking a single finger, Arizona enters me sending shivers down into the very core of my soul. She adds another to her efforts burying them deep into me and building into a steady pulse. I feel as though I'm collapsing; my heart's surging to be free from my chest cavity. Clearly, she's teasing me knowing full well I'm more than ready.

"Arizona Please!"

They pump in and out, my walls clenching around her. My hands reach down her; wanting to feel her, begging her to come closer. Finally, she slams three digits into me and curls them inside. I'm spent, as my body erupts into fiery climax struggling for air and sound.

We lay still for several moments as I take in our reserved moment of ecstasy and peace. Tears begin to stream down from my face as she removes herself from on top of me and lies down next to me, seemingly satisfied with her work. I can't look at her. This was wrong.

"I'm sorry for going out with Erica."

"Don't say her name," Arizona snarls.

"It was stupid. But you and I belong—"

"No! We don't." she snaps. "You left me in the middle of the night to go see your ex! God! I read those text messages she sent you, Calliope. And if that's not humiliating enough, I get the pleasure of working with her! Everyday! If you truly loved me, if you really believed in us, you wouldn't have snuck off in the middle of the night to meet her. So please tell me again, after all that, tell me that you love me!"

Her pager goes off again. I've been keeping her from something at the hospital. It'll just become another thing to add to my guilt list. I sit up on the bed, staring out into the window. My tears are not showing any sign of letting up.

She checks her pager and grimaces at the number.

"It's the hospital, isn't it?"

She nods. "Look, I'm going out of town. Home actually. Wyatt thinks it's best if I get outta here and try to clear my head before the hearing. I just wanted to check on you before I left."

My emotions are in threadbare defense. "Please, I don't want you to give up on us."

She stands, taking a breath of confidence and straightens her shirt.

"Wish me luck?"

My thoughts are going a mile a minute. There's so much pain and I can't have her break down again and find there's nothing I can do to prevent it from happening. The sound of my door and then the front door closing breaks me of my trance. She left unable to wait and see if I answered her, but I do answer the best way I can.

"Good luck."


	10. Chapter 8

**Ch****apter Eight  
**

"Red or white tonight?" Erica asks, leaning over the ER's front desk.

Life has hardly been tragic since I came back to the hospital and Erica has been making sure of that. Sure, she comes off as hard-knock cynic, but that's the exterior. Inside, my Erica has been there for me, caring for me without a second thought. She's kept a smile is permanently glued to her face and always ready to partake in an evening of darts and alcohol to make me feel better.

"How about beer tonight?" I suggest.

Wine is just too painful of a reminder of what today's been; Arizona's first day back on the job and she's avoided me for its entirety. A whole week gone from the graces of Seattle and she didn't answer one of the voicemails, text messages, or emails I sent her after our last night together. Not sure what I should have expected from her after that night. She returned yesterday when our lawyers met with a judge and has this malpractice suit and the negligent father thrown out on their asses. I found out this morning from an intern no less.

"Whatever way you wanna celebrate - I'm game," Erica grins.

The fact that this happened at all to her was horrific and I didn't help the situation either. I broke her. If we were together, I could see that Mexico trip happening. Right about now, we'd probably be in some airport getting our passports stamped, me being unable to keep my hands off her. But we aren't. We're just nothing.

Erica studies me, seeing I'm lost in my thoughts. "Did you try her cell?"

"Tried, but it went to voicemail, again."

"Don't let it get to you. She's somewhere in the hospital, not avoiding you. Why don't you page her?"

"Erica…"

"She's not avoiding you."

This eagerness to see Arizona again has been growing inside me every minute since I found out she's back. And while a single glance would have sufficed this morning, it's definitely not the case now. I need to know if she's was okay. In desperation, I even took on a peds case that came into the ER about an hour ago. What Erica doesn't know is I did page Ari. She sent a resident. She's completely avoiding me.

"She hates me," I groan and lean my head down on the table.

"Hey, come on. You can't give up hope. She'll come around,"

"Erica, you didn't come around until almost six months after we broke up and that wasn't even a break up! You took my lesbian card away and left me in a parking lot."

She smiles and chuckles to herself. "Yeah, well, I did come around."

There were times when Erica and I were dating I would catch her stealing glances at me. She could become completely mesmerized. It was flattering to know that someone could be so infatuated with me, but I took it all for granted and hurt the best friend I've ever had.

"I fucked up."

"No, you're just being lazy. Actions speak louder than words, so go out there and find her."

Her pager goes off. She checks it quickly then looks back to me. "And tell me all about it after I finish this bypass."

"Erica…" I plead.

"Louder than words!" She shouts at me as she rushes down the hall towards the OR.

Slinking back into my chair, kick up my feet ready to finish out my extra shift in this ER. I'm exhausted, edgy, and now I'm supposed to make a grand gesture to win back my love. Oh yes, it's definitely one of those days at Seattle Grace.

*********

Before I knew an hour had flown by. Erica was deep into her coronary by-pass and I was counting down the minutes until then on this thankfully quiet evening. Having learned my lesson once about claiming boredom around idle ambulances, I've chosen in my kicked back state to nap while the nurses and intern flutter back and forth looking for something big to come in.

Before my forty winks have even begun, the sound of a large stack of papers falling to the floor causes me to look down one of the hallways.

It's her.

"Mother fuc—" Arizona mutters

"Says the peds surgeon," I narrate, interrupting her in the process. I'm on my feet collecting the millions of papers.

"Calliope?" She squeaks.

She doesn't look me in the face, but look downs at her feet. I guess it's because she's not sure what to say to me. I can't blame her. So, I continue gathering her papers one by one. They're all applications; specially, applications for the Pediatric surgery fellowship. My guess is Bailey didn't take the offer and they're going for an outside resident as their second choice. I make a mental note to speak with Bailey.

"Thanks Callie," Ari says, gaining some composure and taking the last of the papers from me. "I thought you were still on leave."

"Not if I want to pay rent this month," I reply.

"At least it's seems quiet enough in here today."

"You never say the ER is quiet."

"Why?"

"Bombardment? Apocalypse? The four horsemen? Help, help, the sky is falling? You name it; it'll happen if you ever call the ER quiet."

My humor is such a defense mechanism, but she laughs and I see that familiar sparkle in her eyes. We're talking. That's progress right? I'm not crying; she's not being cold and all anti-Arizona. There's humor and awkwardness; does that mean she's okay or just tired? Does it mean she's can't to sleep at night?

If so, that would make two of us. I can't face my bedroom since that night which is probably why I've been so willing to go out and drink the night away with Erica. It hurts to know Arizona won't be there to place her pager next to mine and hold me all night (or until one of us is paged back in.) That's not functioning and yet I can stand here in front of her and crack jokes about the end of world starting in our ER.

"Sorry. I have dumb jokes," I apologize, but what I really meant is, Sorry I'm still in love with you.

"I like your dumb jokes," she says, taking the papers from me.

She makes me blush.

"Look, if you aren't busy tonight, I'd really—"

"Thank you for picking up my papers," she says and turns to continue on her way.

My hand shoots out and grabs her.

"Don't do this, Arizona."

She turns around. "I've just survived what could have been the end of my career and you're asking me out?"

"I just… I thought that maybe you'd be okay since the malpractice is—"

"Oh no…" she gasps.

"It is over, isn't it?" I ask.

"Callie… Run!"

"What? No! I'm not running from you. Damnit Arizona! I love you! And I want to be with you for year and years until we're old and gray!"

"NO! RUN!" Arizona yells and points behind me.

I turn to see Jonathan, the father of Arizona's patient. Clutched in his hand is a gun pointed directly at Arizona.

A shot fires as I push her aside.

"NO!" Arizona screams.

A brilliant, deep red soaks through my scrubs. The pain isn't there yet, but I know when my central nervous system catches up with my body, it's going to immense. The scent of iron and metal fills my senses. My legs grow heavier than lead as I collapse to the ground. Arizona desperately tries to break my fall.

Two hands feverously press a white lab coat against my stomach, but it does little to stop the blood from seeping out of the wound.

"Stay with me, Callie!" Arizona cries. She looks up at the nurses, and patients paralyzed with fear. "Help us! Get a gurney. Page Hunt—"

The back of Jonathan's gun meets the side of her head as Arizona collapses like a rag doll right on top of me. The weight of her body is the last brick to fall as pain radiates throughout my body. He grins at his work.

"Please… don't hurt her," I whisper as he grabs her wrist and drags her to a railing on the wall, handcuffing her to it.

He lets out a laugh more sinister than I thought possible from any human being.

"Hurt her? Do you know what this bitch has put me through?"

This is wrong. He's wrong because this man has put Arizona and I through the hell and back in just the pass few moments. His gun clicks as he cocks it back and points the barrel directly at me. I can't tell if he's going to finish the job or if he's just taunting me. Either way, I won't be showing this bastard any fear. His foot rises back then connects with my head.

I'm out cold.


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Please God… save her," Arizona sniffles.

Her voice is thick in my throbbing head as I start to come to. Coldness has seeped into my extremities and the only warmth I feel is the blood flowing out of my wound. My breath is shallow and my eye lids feel heavier than cylinder blocks. I've seen this many times when my patient is just about to code. The air just goes still while a ringing floods your ears and then you know. You're dying.

"Quiet!" Hunt hisses.

"Wait! She's coming to!" Arizona cries out.

"Robbins don't!" Mark whispers as Arizona tugs at her handcuff wrist.

"Calliope please! Keep your eyes open, baby. You need to stay awake!"

I try to say her name, but I end up choking on some blood still floating in the back of my mouth. My head falls to the side as I spit it out then groan as my abdomen screams in defiance. Not that I wasn't in a bad situation to begin with, but if you can taste blood, it's definitely not a good sign.

"Oh God! Mark! " Arizona cries.

It takes an amazing amount of will power to open my eyes and look at Arizona, but I do it. If I'm going to die today in this hospital, I want the love of my life to be the last person I see. Half of her face is a deep purple with a grazed wound garnishing it. I can't tell if it's all from that bastard's gun smacking her or if he decided to hurt her some more once I was out. Still, she's alive and relatively okay. My eyes fall shut again. I can't seem to muster any energy.

"No no no! Callie please! Wake up!"

I tried to do as she says and open my eyes again, but it's impossible. So I do the only thing I can think of, I pray. Pray to God, Jesus, Buddha? Anyone who will listen to me at this point. I pray that she will be protected. It's not her time. It's not any of theirs. It should be me. After what I've put Arizona through I deserve to go straight to hell. My friends, the only family I've got left now and they're all in direct danger.

"I love you," I mumble somewhere between a painful euphoria and unconsciousness.

A sob escapes her lips. "I love you too, Calliope. From the first time the nurses pointed you out at Joe's. I knew it was always you, baby. All my life I've been waiting for you. So, you've got to stay awake, Cal. You can't leave me."

She struggles against the handcuff, but it's useless, only adding to the bruising and cuts the tight bond is creating. She then stretches out and reaches for me with her free hand. "Please stay with me, Calliope."

But I'm fading fast. The extreme lost of blood has made me more exhausted than a forty-eight hour shift ever could.

"Owen!" Arizona cries.

"Just breathe, Robbins. It's only been an hour. There's still time," Owen tries, but it's doesn't help as Arizona starts to sob again.

"Please Calliope!"

The click of a gun comes into play as everyone looks toward the source of the sound. There's Jonathan standing near by, pointing the gun barrel directly at me.

"You're up, finally," he snarls at me. Malice is dripping from his voice as my blood drips onto the floor. It's sad to think we're both in so much pain.

Arizona is still trying as she tugs at the hand cuff again. "Please Jonathan! She's going to bleed out! I need to help her!"

"Then maybe you'll finally understand!" he snaps at her.

"Please don't do –"

"You let her die!" Jonathan roars.

The gun fires right next me, sending pieces of the linoleum floor everywhere. The sound reverberates in my already ringing head. He's trying to scare us and its working.

"CALLIE!" she screams.

Hands and feet bound in duck tape, Mark struggles against his ties and tries to get to me. But Jonathan spots him and kicks him back to the wall with a giant thud.

"Move again and I shoot her," Jonathan yells.

My heart says a silent prayer that they'll listen. Watch, let me die, and wait for this guy to get taken down by the cops or a swat team are waiting outside.

But Arizona continues to struggle for freedom. "There were complications! I'm sorry! I did everything I could for her! Please! Callie did nothing to you. Let me help her! She can't—"

"Die? My little girl shouldn't have died. So maybe now you'll understand what it feels like to lose your entire world! God! You told me she'd be okay! You fuckin' bitch! She was six years old! You're a doctor! Why didn't you save her?!"

"Arizona," I whisper. She has to stop. Any more antagonizing will lead to more shooting and his aim is getting better with each shot. If she gets hurt trying to get to me, I'll never forgive myself.

The phone at the desk goes off. No one moves, waiting for this psycho to say its okay.

"Fuckin answer it!" Jonathan yells.

Little Grey, the only one not tied and bound, jumps to her feet as she grabs the phone.

"Seattle Grace, this is Lexie…"

Those droopy Grey family eyes look at our kidnapper filled with tears. She's afraid to tell him even though it's obvious whose calling. "It's - it's the police. They want to know what happened and they want to speak with you again."

Jonathan marches over to the front desk and grabs the phone. We're just shy of his eye sight and Arizona doesn't miss a beat as she seizes the moment to pull at her handcuff again.

"Will you stop!? It didn't work an hour ago and it's not working now! Do you really want us to get shot?" Yang snaps.

"She's right, Robbins. Best plan is to sit back and wait before we all end up with a bullet," Hunt agrees.

I know that must hurt for him to say. He's always been all about the army's mantra about never leaving a man behind and being army strong or being all that you can be; whatever the motto is. But there's not much you can do in a situation like this.

"No! I can't let her die!"

I have to do something. She's losing it with every second that passes by. So gathering all the strength I can manage, I speak up, praying that she'll calm down.

"…'sokay, Arizona. Don't worry… I'll be okay."

Looking up, the lights begin to halo everything in my sight. I haven't got that much time left. There's so much I didn't get to do. Marriage, kids, taking over SGH's power couple title from McDreamy & Grey. Hell! That trip to Mexico. I've imagined it so many times now. I'm pretty sure I would have been enjoying myself all week getting to rub suntan lotion on her. Drinking margaritas by the ocean with no one around for miles, and making love until the sun came up. All these could have been moments we would have shared, but now I'll spend an eternity only dreaming about. I hate to say it, but I'm leaving this world soon whether or not we get rescue in the next ten minutes or ten hours. It's not fair and it's too soon.

While my thoughts are becoming overwhelming and eating my conscious alive, a blonde figure leans over me. She takes off Arizona's blood soaked lab coat and examines the wound. This angel takes off her own white lab coat, drapes it over me, and applies pressure to my wound. A groan seeps out of my mouth at the pain.

"Shh! You've got to be quiet," the angel says.

"Erica?" I whisper.

It must be Erica because for the life of me I can't imagine Izzie Stevens risking her skin for me, even if it did include the most amazing rock star status ever.

"What did I tell you, Torres?"

"Where the hell did you come from?!" Yang asks.

"He didn't check the OR's."

"Is there a Harper Avery for worst kidnapper ever?" Yang snickers.

"Nurses and I have been sneaking people out the back. Didn't think he'd ever go away so I could get you guys out of here," Erica glances up to the front desk. Jonathan's still consumed with yelling at the negotiator.

"How bad is it?" Arizona asks in a hushed voice.

Her face scrunches up as Erica removes the coat to assess the situation again. "It's low. We might have a chance if we get her to the OR now."

She lies the jacket back down and reapplies the pressure to my abdomen.

"We're never going to get past him though," Arizona says glancing back up at Jonathan, still in deep conversation.

"So we'll have to create a distraction," Erica suggests.

"NO!" I cough out.

"Callie shhh…" Erica smoothes back my hair, desperate to keep me calm. "I'll distract him."

She inches across the floor and soon I'm hearing scissors cutting through the duck tape. Mark must have been the first one freed as he quickly comes to my side and looks for himself at the wound. He too frowns at it then quickly turns it around.

"Well as far as awesome gunshots surgeries go, you'd be making Yang's night."

Yang joins him, delivering an elbow to his ribs. "Would not!"

But her eyes say differently as she examines me for herself. Finally, Cristina realizes what Arizona has been crying about.

"Thank god you're tall, Torres. Any higher and you'd be a goner," Mark jokes, but the tension is still there.

The sound of metal turns my attention back to Arizona as Hunt tries to free her. But the handcuffs aren't going anywhere without the key or some bolt cutters.

"Just leave me and get her out of here now!" Arizona begs.

Hunt gives a quick nod then joins us. With his trained trauma surgeon's eyes, he carefully looks me over. "There's an exit wound too. We've got to get her in surgery now and stop the bleeder."

Erica frees the last of the nurses and interns then joins us, taking my hand quickly and squeezing it for comfort. "Okay, head towards the left wing," She commands. "Once you're out, lock the door behind you. I'll make sure he doesn't follow you all."

"Don't!" I cry again as the pain fires through my body. Erica's going to sacrifice herself. She can't.

"I really don't think you have much of a say in this," Erica says then turns to the others now crowded around us. "The rest of you, stay low and don't get in the way of them. We get Callie out first then we all get to safety. Okay?"

Their silence is agreement enough. Hunt positions him self behind me, looping his arms under my shoulders. Mark grabs my legs as I groan at the movement.

"No!" I cry fading more and more. The four of them ignore me.

"How are you planning on stopping this nut job?" Mark asks

Erica holds up her keychain of pepper spray and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Blind him and get the gun."

"Don't Erica." My voice is barely above a whisper now.

"Shhh… Callie, it's going to be okay." But her eyes say otherwise. She's studying my face like it's the last time she'll see me. "You have to be strong, okay? Because I don't think Kansas there is going to live if anything else happens to you."

Erica looks back to Arizona and gives her a nod. And then it's happening.

She's on her feet rushing to the ER desk, the mace in hand and alcohol as back up. Mark, Owen, and Yang along with a few interns and nurses lift me up and are rushing me out the back. The pain of the movement is the final straw and I start to slip into unconsciousness.

Suddenly several gun shots are fired out.

"ERICA!" Arizona screams as it all fades into a black oblivion.


	12. Interlude 2

**Interlude 2 – Erica  
**

I hate myself. Pure and simple. Callie's in this situation because of me. Had I not taken Richard's offer to finish out a few of my patient's cases, had I not let jealousy get the best of me, had I just let that pathetic roller skating battleship into my hotel room that faithful drunken night, all of this could have been avoided.

Callie might have comforted Robbins that way she needed. She wouldn't have broken her girlfriend's heart by having a late night liaison with me at Joe's. She definitely wouldn't be lying in intensive care after six straight hours of surgery from a distraught Hunt and Yang. Shepherd wouldn't be worried about the possible bleeding her beautiful head from that gun slap or kick. I'm not sure. Wyatt would be on call waiting to treat the inevitable post trauma stress. Mark wouldn't be at such a lost that not even sex with that freshman version of Grey could solve it.

No, this psychotic father would have been bagged and tagged as the nut case he is if I didn't come here and distract Callie from the one person in Seattle Grace who needed her most. Instead, my best friend has been lying on a bed in the ICU with her mother and father out cold from a red eye flight and grief. They don't like me being here, but I have a promise to keep to that pediatric excuse of a surgeon.

Imagines of her bloody wrist grabbing hold of mine haunt me as she begged me to look after her _sweet Calliope._ Words were hard to come by at this point having just done about the stupidest thing I could think of by tackling this assailant, so all I could manage was a nod. The look in her eyes as they carried Callie away was now burning into mine. Love, absolute love, fear, and guilt that the great woman in her life was hurt and she had caused it. It was mirrored in my own.

Now my fear loomed from gripping to paralyzing as I knew I'd have to be the one to explain why Arizona is not at this bedside and I am.

Mrs. Torres stirred in her sleep waking her husband. His soft Latino eyes graze protectively over his daughter. Not a hair would be harmed upon her head again as long as he was here. For now it's a waiting game on when Callie will wake up. Personally, I'd wanted to keep Callie under for a few days until the bulk of her sustained injuries were well on their way to healing, but the head injury was preventing that.

The head of the Torres clan then looked up, almost studying me and the dark circles that have formed under my eyes now. It might be the first time we've met, but he looked at me with a sense of trust after hearing about my Macgyver heroics.

"Coffee?" he mouthed at me, careful not to wake his distressed wife.

I nod, checking Callie's monitors and lines before joining Mr. Torres in the hallway. Relief floods over me the serenity of florescent lighting bathes me. Not being in the room, staring at the direct root at my pain was more exhausting than I was letting on. We continued down another hallway and turned a corner before I lead him into one of the waiting rooms. Without being prompted, the patriarch fed a few bills into the vending machine, having two coffees made then handing one to me.

"Thanks."

He sat down on one of the couches. Slowly, I paced the room draining the coffee in hopes that it'll calm my nerves or lift the burden of the situation.

"How come you wear the red scrubs while all the other attending doctors where navy blue?" He asked innocently enough.

"Huh?" I sputter out then look down at the old Seattle Presbyterian scrubs adorned on my body. I hadn't even noticed. "Oh uh, they're from my last hospital. Richard isn't really strict about visiting doctors adhering to the dress code colors."

"Visiting?"

"Yeah, I left Seattle Grace back in November."

"Better job?"

"No, just needed to get away from it for a little awhile."

"Red suits you."

Like the little devil I am? Like the gremlin took out the one cog that made the plane fall from the sky. He reads me like an open book and swiftly elaborates on it.

"They make you look strong."

"Oh."

He seems lost for words now, but I know what he wants; an explanation as to how or why his daughter would be caught in the cross fire of this. He wanted someone to yell at and probably quote bible passages at. To say how his is sign of God himself that his Calliope was head down a path straight to hell. But mostly, he wanted someone to blame.

"Mr. Torres—"

"She used to speak about you all the time."

"Excuse me?"

"When she called her mother," he continues. "Calliope would talk about you. She used to regale us with stories about yoga classes, and wine tastings, and how you'd inspired her to make a man walk. Clearly, you were her best friend here and between her mother and I, well, we couldn't be happier to hear it."

He has no idea how happy that makes me feel too.

"After that divorce to that, that half man, she had lost a part of herself. Then you came along, and whatever it was, you helped bring our little girl back to us."

I'm stunned. She told her family about me. Probably not in the way she'd introduced Robbins to them, but she had spoken about me.

"And then it stopped again. She didn't come home for the holidays. She barely returned a phone call or an email. We had to call her roommate just to reach her."

I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot knowing exactly the time frame he's referring to.

"But you came back and saved her. You gave us back our daughter and for that, you'll never know how truly grateful I am."

During your internship you constantly get thanks for saving lives. Appreciative family members and friends put to ease by simple phrases such as, no complications; excellent patient; in recovery and doing well. Their gratitude are etched so profoundly into their expressions that after a surgery rotation you grow numb to it.

And then there are the cases that didn't go so well. Complications did arise and that patient didn't make it, so detachment is key; it's survival. I've wanted to detach myself from this the moment Callie's parents showed up looking for an explanation. I wanted to end the horror and the pain, but instead I just grew to hate myself because in the end it's how I'm going to survive this.

Setting down my cup of coffee, I take a seat next to Carlos and prepare myself. It isn't easy what I have to do next, but Callie is my friend and now my patient. And we both know that in some cases given the thanks, the gratitude, the hate or detachment, we still have to do the right thing by our patients.

"She might be back, Mr. Torres, but she won't be alive with Arizona gone."


	13. Chapter 10

a/n: apologies for the wait, but you know when something just isn't right and you have to keep working and working til it just feels right? Yup. All that and more. Anyways, thanks for reading/commenting/the gentle pokes thru pm about finishing. :) this is for niki who helped, coached, beta-ed, and was an amazing friend when chaos ensued in this amazing journey. enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

_Beep._

This steady noise breaks the inevitable silence I've been slumbering in as my eyes flutter open. That's the fifth one I've counted since regaining consciousness. Everything is dark and foggy as I fight to find some level of consciousness. I'm dead and yet I can still hear her somewhere in the back of my mind.

_Wake Calliope! Wake up and find me._

_Beep._

For Godsakes! Why is Heaven beeping? Am I in purgatory or limbo? I mended bones for a living, made people walk, loved an amazing woman who fixes tiny humans for profession and somehow I'm trapped in wherever this is?

_Beep_.

Then slowly, I begin to remember. Arizona was purple? No, no that that was a bruise, marring the beautiful face I loved to wake up next to. There were tears and crying. She was scared and looking at me, desperately trying to memorize every detail about me like it would be the last time. But was it?

_Beep._

Morphine is swimming laps in my head, as I will my eyes to open wider and see where I am. Coldness is still prevalent in my extremities or perhaps that's just Death lingering beside my bed. My lungs burn to take a deep breath but end up choking it back. I'm on a respirator and somehow to my disbelief, I'm alive.

_Beep._

That bastard! He was there pointing his gun at anyone who defied him. All it did was grant him a false sense of godliness. Then there was a shot fired. I couldn't let him hurt her, so I moved in front of her with my arms stretched wide. Did I make it in time or did he just have bad aim? I guess I'll never know for sure. She was safe though and all that's all that mattered to me. Still, I was in pain. It was a self-fulfilling pain where it felt as if my outside finally matched what my insides had been feeling for weeks.

I try to move my hand to find the call button or at the very least some more morphine, but it feels like a sack of bricks is weighing me down.

"Holy shit, you're awake!" my roommate exclaims, her voice higher than anticipated. She drops her sandwich onto her makeshift picnic table on my bed and checks my vitals.

I want to shout at her to take this tube out of my throat, but it's Yang. Unless it leads to something incredible involving surgery, she wouldn't dare especially with Arizona probably lurking around. Jesus Christ, why am I waking up with my roommate next me to? Where's Arizona?

"You probably want to know what happened to you."

Or what's happened to my friends, my best friend, and my girlfriend? Yang's here so obviously she survived or I really am lying in ICU hell with my roommate as my eternal damnation. She was one of the people carrying me out, right? So that must mean all those people made it out, I think. Did Erica make it out after going all Rambo on that son of bitch? Where's Arizona?

"Psycho father shot you in the lower abdomen with a .22 at close range, which proceeded to leave an exit wound in its wake. But not before more than half the shell exploded, piercing your left lung."

Well, that explains the tube.

"You're lucky Hunt was in the room. It was amazing. He had you in and out. And you were a freaking mess. It was like playing where's Waldo in your abdomen trying to get everything out."

She holds back my eyelids and shines her pen light directly into them. My whole head burns.

"You've got a concussion to match. So as soon as you can, Shepherd wants to get a CT."

Shepherd and Hunt, that's two more names to add to the made-it-out-alive list.

"Look, I've got to call your parents or else they're going to kill me. They only left if I promised not to leave you come hell or high waters."

My parents are here? I guess the whole disowning you thing doesn't hold up if your estranged daughter has been gun down at her vocation. I hope Arizona's handling them all right.

"Good to see you awake, Callie. But take it easy."

Yang reaches over me and hits the morphine for me. The affects are immediate as I slip into unconsciousness unable to protest this indiscretion.

* * *

Hours must have passed when I wake up next. I can feel my whole body moving forward, slowly and sure. My eyes struggle to focus on anything.

"It's okay, Callie" says a voice over an intercom. Maybe Karev?

That's debatable at this point. I think I'm getting a CT, which explains the immense amount of grayish white surrounding my fuzzy vision.

I turn to sit up, but the pains of my injuries stop me. My hand gropes for the morphine button anywhere. There's nothing, but hollow walls surrounding me. Figures, the time I actually want the stuff it's nowhere to be found.

"Callie, stop moving. I'm not about to run this again."

Okay, that's definitely Karev. He must have made it out too, though I can't really remember seeing him while I was bleeding out on the floor with… oh god. Where is she?

"Ari? Erica?"

Neither respond, instead Karev comes back on the intercom. "Torres, you're in a scan. Stop moving. You'll be done in just a few."

The idiot leaves the intercom on as he continues some sort of conversation with whoever is in the scan room. "Bullet rips right through her and every time the girl's been remotely conscious she's been muttering for Roller girl. You'd think they'd tell her."

"Karev, it's her family's personal business. We do not get involved in family drama," Bailey states like it's the hundredth time she's said this today.

"You weren't in there! Robbins' was balling her eyes out like a baby the whole time. It's not right. God, why doesn't Hahn say something?" Karev asks like Bailey should have the know-all/be-all answer to this.

"Last time, Karev," Bailey begins like she always does when she's delivering a lecture to inferior residents or interns. "The Torres family has sunk a lot of money into this hospital. Good money that funds your residency program. They specifically said not tell Torres what happened until she's stronger."

My heart begins to race. Stronger for what? Where is she? Why isn't she holding my hand through this? Why wasn't she the one keeping vigil next to my bed? Why isn't she the one dressed in lead, talking me through this scan? Where is my girlfriend?

The beat of my heart reaches my head; my breath starts to come in desperate gasps. It seems like nothing I do will fill my lungs. My mind screams run as I try to get up.

"Arizona!" I choke out, raspy and frantic.

"Callie! Breathe!" Karev roars over the mic, but his words don't comprehend.

Then I feel it again; warmth begins to spill down the side of abdomen as I feel stitches pops and slice through my tender wound. It doesn't matter. Something went wrong and now Arizona's not here. And if she can't come to me, I'm going to her.

"Shit! She's gonna go to into cardiac arrest."

The bed begins to move out. Once free I feel someone take my hand and place another on top of my chest, trying to make me lie back down. I pray it's her, but a glance to my left and there is Miranda, my saint with a backhand.

"Torres, I'm not losing you. Not after everything, God, help me if I lose you too. So breathe!"

* * *

With that, it went dark again.

"And what am I suppose to do, Carlos?" My mother's wavering voice begins as I approach a state of consciousness again. "She's bound to get that tube thing out of her mouth eventually and that'll be the end of this charade. We'll have to tell her."

I can hear them, almost as if I'm in a dream, but I can't seem to control this dreams. What happened? Why can't I move again? Cristina said my parents were here, but something else has happened. Something no one has yet to tell me, and I think I know what it is. They didn't make it. Why no one won't anyone talk to me?

"Marie, we've been through this time and time again. Calliope needs a clean break. Once we have everything in order, we'll wake her up, fly back to Miami and be rid of this place forever," my father counters.

My mother's hand reaches across and sweeps my hair back my hair. "They said she was happy here. I just – I don't know if I could do that to her."

"She was shot, Marie! If that isn't evidence enough that she doesn't belong here then I don't know what it."

My mother voice hitches as she tries to talk. She's probably somewhere between holding back tears and being unable to cry anymore. "How could she do this to us? In the eyes of God, how could she lead a life like this? Divorce then become a gay? I just – This is not the daughter I raised."

I hear my father wrap his arms around my mother; the two of them emitting a deep sigh of comfort and relief.

"What are we going to tell her when she wakes up?" My mother whispers out.

"The truth, I guess."

* * *

It's like a thousand of the sharpest needles are being dragged out of my throat as I'm torn from purgatory for the umpteenth time this day. The feeling is violent as if someone is slashing at my throat from the inside. I'm coughing, sputtering, and having the urge to breathe on my own.

"Hang in there, Callie. Just cough. It's almost over."

My eyes snap open to see my cardio ex watching over me like a Shepherd does to Grey as she pulls the intubation line from my mouth. Finally free, I lean over the side of my bed willing my lungs to breathe on their own, but Erica is there, holding me back.

"Erica! I gasp out.

"Slow down there. You don't want to pop your stitches again."

A few painful breaths bleed down my raw throat and I begin to feel like my self again. She lets me lays me back down. She blinks back a few tears as I tried to smile at her. Slowly, I slide my hand to hers. She greets it with her own, steadily bringing it her lips and kissing the back of my hand.

"I thought I lost you," she says.

She had no idea how much I thought I lost her. Watching her run off to meet destiny with that psycho, I'm not sure whom it was harder on. But there's one more I've wanted to see since I've woken up. Everything time I've been awake, no one has mentioned her, told me she just ran out, or showed me the over kill of get well soon bouquets that I know Arizona would have decorated my room with.

Then it hits me.

She's gone.

Arizona is gone.

I'll never wake up with her by my side again. She'll never kiss the back of my hand. The love of my life has been taken from me and I wasted the last weeks of her life. She was in pain because of me. I'll never be able to make it right with her.

"Erica?" I try again, my voice is hoarse and barely there, but she hears me.

"It's okay, Callie. You're okay."

"You're alive?" I croak out trying to hold in my tears over Arizona.

She laughs, "I was fine. You were the one we were all worried about." She pulls my chart from the end of the bed. "Shot to lower—"

"Don't."

She nods and puts the chart back. I can't hear it again. It just makes it all the more real.

"Yang was here earlier. She told me," I whisper out and attempt to get up, but she's there stopping me again.

She clicks the bed control to help me sit up then pours me a glass of water complete with bendy straw. "Drink, you sound horrible."

Halfheartedly, I obliged her and sip the cool water savoring it as it runs down my throat calming the wake of the tube. But it doesn't deter me. I have to know what happened. Was it a fly bullet or did her guerrilla warfare fall short and the gunman went after Arizona? Why is everyone avoiding this giant elephant in the room?

"How'd it happen?"

She turns away from me and begins filling out something on my chart. "How'd what happen?"

"Erica, please. Just tell me."

"It's not that simple, Callie."

"I need to know.

"No, it's not that. It's just, well, your parent said—"

"Where is she? The morgue?"

"The morgue?" Erica asked, perplexed. "Why on Earth would Robbins be there?"

"You mean she's not –?" I can't even finish the statement as my father's voice reigns over us.

"Security, please escort Dr. Robbins off this floor and out of this hospital immediately."

"Please! Just let me see if she's okay!" cries Arizona from the hallway.

"Out of the question!" my father counters. "You put her in there!"

I turn to Erica. "She made it out?"

"They won't let her in," Erica explains. "Per your father's orders. We've tried everything, but the Chief won't let her in because of all the money your father donated. I think Yang put it as the epic, House of Torres verse the State of Arizona."

She's alive. I can't believe it. She's alive, she's alive she's alive! I can't say it enough. She's alive!

"Wait, why would they…?"

Erica sighs, looking away from me. "They think she caused this all and I swear to you, I've tried to tell him that out of all of us, she's the one only you'd want to see, but—"

"She's my girlfriend!" I don't act like I notice the pain that flashes in Erica's eyes as I say that.

"But in the eyes of the law, she's not family. Richard's hands were tied."

"Help me up," I demand as I sit up more and pull the covers back.

"Callie—"

"Erica, help me up," I demand again, placing one hand on the bed railing and another on my nightstand. "If they're not going to let her in to see me, I'm going to her."

She's quick to lend a hand, as I stand on my own two feet for the first time in a few days. No matter how much morphine or whatever painkiller I've got cursing through my body, the pain wins out, instantly blinding as stumble back on the bed.

"Let me get a wheelchair," Erica offers, but I'm already trying to get back to my feet before she has a chance.

"Just help me to the door."

With frown of acceptance, Erica take one of my arms around her shoulders and wraps the other wraps around me, careful of my wound. She knows there's no fighting this.

"Go slow and give me a heads up if you're about to pass out on me, okay?"

A weak smile greets her attempt at humor as we take a few steps around the bed and towards the door. I can hear a struggle going on outside and as soon as we're to the doorway, I witness it. There is a guard pushing Arizona face first into the wall. His muscular hand is pinching a pressure point in her shoulder while the other is painfully twisting hers into submission.

"Please!" Arizona begs, tears rolling down her face. "Mr. Torres, I'm so sorry this happened. I know it's my fault, but please! I need to –"

"You need to what?" My father's voice booms again in his dulcimer tones. "Destroy her life some more? It's in abomination what you've doing to my daughter."

No. The abomination is my parents not letting her in to see me. She's the love of my life and foolishly it took a tragedy of almost losing her for me to finally see it. I can't even begin to imagine how she's feeling at this point.

"I love her!" Arizona cries.

"Let her go," I say as Erica holds me stead in the doorway.

My father turns around. My mother's jaw drops.

"Calliope!" My father shouts at me. "What are you doing out of bed?"

It doesn't matter if I answer him or not. What matters to me is Arizona. She looks weak, as if rest or food hasn't come into her life in days. It probably hasn't either.

"I said let her go," I demand again, locking eyes with the guard.

The hired guard looks to my father who gives him a quick nod to release Arizona. She about collapses to the floor before a near by Lexie catches her, helping her back to her feet.

"Calliope!" he tries again.

"No!" I counter He seems shocked that I would do that. "You don't get to play concern father after you disowned me!"

"She hurt you, Calliope. This whole ordeal is her fault! It God's way of tell you that homosexuality is a sin! Don't –"

"God went out of his way to have a father lose his child then lose his mind and shoot me for loving a woman? Do you even hear yourself?"

My father scoffs at my outburst, unable to see things my way. So my mother tries. "Calliope, you're not well," my mother wails, tears threatening to ruin her perfect make up. "Think of your soul! You will go to hell for this."

"No, Mama. God wants us to love and that's exactly what Arizona's done for me this past months. Finding out who I am? It was confusing and scary and I needed my family more than anything, but you were weren't there."

My side feels like it's on fire as I spit out the words I've wanted to say for weeks to them. Erica senses this as she tries to motion me to go back to my bed, but I stand firm. Out of all of them, Arizona stuck by me through all those confusing months. I owe her this, to myself, to let my family know that what they did by cutting me out of their lives was not acceptable.

"You both need to leave now."

"Calliope!" my father roars at me.

"Security can escort you out if you won't leave."

"We are your family, Mija," my mother cries. "You're just confused. A lot has happened during these past few days."

"She's my family too. This hospital is my family. They have stuck by me through everything. You only came here after you thought I was dying. You can't pick when it's convenient again to play mom and dad. I love her! So, please, just go."

My mother locks eyes with almost pleading me to reconsider this, but my mind's made up.

"If you can accept us, then there's room for you both, Mama."

"Will you at least call us and let us know how you're doing?"

"Marie!" Carlos protests.

"Every Sunday; I promise you."

She makes her way to me, cupping my face with her tan hands and kissing my forehead. It's not so much a kiss good bye as it is a kiss of faith and love. Taking my father's hand, they leave in silence. They'll come around eventually, I know they will. And when they do we'll be ready with open hearts to make up for time lost.

* * *

It's nearly 3 am.

And just like I did all those months ago, I find myself awake listening to the humming of the hallway's florescent lights, accompanied by a symphony of soft snores from my colleagues as they slept on cots and chairs brought into my room. Mark and Lexie are wrapped in each other's arms as if they were one. Alex is drooling onto his half finished chart, as Bailey unconsciously cradles an exhausted Tuck in her arms. Yang has slumped over onto Erica's shoulder and I know the second either of them wake up they'll snap apart like it never happened.

No one has left the hospital since I've woken up and righted the wrongs of my parents. No one seems to want to. We're exhausted by the events of the past few days. Our emotions were raw.

Arizona's been asleep curl up against my good side with an arm holding me tight on the tiny hospital bed for the better part of an hour. The two of us have been fading in and out of sleep but each time I would wake, my hand would reach out for hers to disprove the unruly thoughts of doubt. We made it out a little worse for wear, but alive.

"Callie?" a voice speaks.

Erica's awake in all her gentle giant gloriousness. She lifts Yang up, and carefully lies her back down on the cot, pulling a stray blanket over top of her.

"Careful Erica. Someone around here might think the cardio surgeon actually has a heart in that tin chest."

She smiles at me and sits next to my bed.

"Are we going to be okay?" I whisper as I watch her eyes wander down to my sleeping girlfriend.

"You are."

I frown at her knowing that she's about to give me some news I don't want to hear.

"And in the morning, you're going to tell her that. You both will be ok."

"Erica…"

"You and I? Well, we've run our course, Cal." Her long fingers runs through my hair. "But Robbins and You…" She pauses and looks to the girl sleeping next to me. "Promise me, Callie, if things get difficult with her like they did with us, promise me you'll talk to her." Her hand retracts back to the safety of her folded arms. "Promise me instead of Sloan or wine or surgery, it'll be her you'll turn to."

"Erica?"

"No," she says with tears threatening to spill. "Just promise me this before I go."

"I promise."

With almost perfect timing, Erica's pager chirps to life. She quickly excuses herself to answer the call, but the sound does not fall on deaf ears as Arizona stirs awake.

"Calliope…?" .

"Not your pager, Ari."

Her hand brushes over mine and interlaces her fingers with mine. "No… no… Just making sure you're still there," she mumbles falling back into sleep.

"Always."


End file.
